The Subspace Emissary
by nalagaOcean777
Summary: Fighting. It was all they had ever known.It was the thing they were best at, the thing they were born with. But something is about to change this, something that doesn't mean well at all...something that wishes to engulf the whole world in Subspace.
1. Prequel

Disclaimer - I most certainly do not own Super Smash Bros. Brawl or any of the characters within. Neither do I own the concept, nor the right to try and make a profit out of this story. I mean geez, people, I'm not _that_ psyched about college savings…well, not yet, anyway.

This is my first story to be contributed to so I sincerely hope that it'll be all right. Flames will be discreetly ignored or laughed at, not to mention reported, so don't waste your brain cells on that kind of crap. Be a nice person and send in a civilized review instead. Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms.

And now, on with the story!!

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Fighting.

It was all they had ever known. It was the thing they were best at, the thing they were born with, and for. To battle, and battle, for the satisfaction of those cheering crowds they could never truly see. The impulse was natural, the reason simple, obvious.

They fought because that was what they were meant to do.

They were trophies brought to blessed, vibrant life, the standing idols of their own worlds, individuals with their own legacies. All of them had done something in the past, a distant memory, unnaturally clear but hopelessly detached. They knew, but they could not remember. It was an attached string that gave them something to recall, an insight to the thing called memory, something that did not have anything to do with fighting and fighting. They knew, but they could not remember. And they never mentioned it, never troubled over it, never questioned it. Why should they? That did not matter now.

They had been imagined, designed, and put to ground for warfare. Their existence hinted nothing else. You fought, and if you did not there were unspeakable consequences, a taboo that, when broken, inflicted the most terrible of all terrible punishments.

You were returned to the dark. The terrible, lonely, dark. Where you could not fight, or think about fighting, or even watch a battle. Where you were condemned to nothingness, to the inability to do what you wanted to the most.

You were turned back, into the lifeless trophy from whence you had emerged. And the only merciful chance of release came when a fellow fighter took pity and touched you, despite the repulsive plastic stuff from which you had been made and trapped within, despite the hideous disfiguration of your frozen, expressionless pose upon a golden base. Yes, if that fellow fighter did so, only then would you be released, only then would you be alive again. And you would be eternally grateful, and fight to your last breath as the chances came and went, so long as you need not experience such torture again.

Fighting. The lifeblood of them all.

The story that takes place here is a tale of these fighters, who knew nothing but such. There were two groups, self-formed, naturally attracting to each other, with an instinct that held each together. One of the groups were comprised of merciful fighters whom, should the enemy be reduced to the torture of trophy, would release that unfortunate of all unfortunate individuals in terms of a second chance. Then there was the other group, that comprised of other fighters, fighters who could not stand the thought of being returned to the dark. They were deadly afraid of it, but delighted in reducing their enemies to such, and would not even think once about returning those poor fools to their proper states.

So it was, and so it is now. But something shall upset the balance of things, a third group, a group of accidental chance that occurred in the blooming thoughts of a game-manufacturer's mind, idle, waiting…

But hidden no longer.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Ahem. Well. Once again, I don't own Super Smash Bros. Brawl, any of the characters or concepts pertained to it, or anything else with a copyright. So I really would appreciate it if any of you suspicious people woukd get off my back now. Yes, I mean you, you vulture-lawyers. …That didn't make much sense. But whatever. Let's just get on with the story, shall we?

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It was time.

Princess Zelda felt it, that stirring excitement that flared deep inside her, sparkling in her navy eyes, and she clasped her hands in anticipation, turning her gaze to the crystal skies above in expectation. The young woman standing beside her was no less enthusiastic. There was already a smile on her round, fair face, lighting her features beneath her golden curls.

Rivals and comrades on equal terms, Princess Zelda and Princess Peach eagerly scanned the pristine heavens, excitement building with every moment. They were the only distinguishable figures in the entire stadium they stood within - the crowds that surrounded the two women were distinguished only by dots of moving colors and blurry shapes, waves of voices rising and falling like a tide, common and continuous. The two did not care for this, of course, having known such phenomena all of their lives. Nor did they give a blink to the origin of the area - indeed, the stadium was in fact floating in the air among a thick veil of clouds, thousands of feet above the green surface below.

No, they noticed none of that. Zelda took an excited breath as a golden flash gleamed in the sky, white-gloved hands interlacing fingers as the excitement built, her stately violet dress swaying with the graceful motion of her head and her brown hair, where a golden tiara embellished with a large ruby sat and glinted in the sunlight. Peach spotted the flash as well, and her own gloved hands emitted grace as she pointed. She craned her head to get a better look, pink ballroom gown rippling in a light breeze, cerulean eyes shining with pride.

A trophy tumbled from the heavens, toppling this way and that in a wild arc. Yet with a flick of the golden base it landed perfectly upon the battlefield far below, in the center of the stadium. As the last quiver of the fall was stabilized, there was a flicker, a flash that swept away that golden base. The ring of light ate its way upward, limbering limb, melting clothing, sparkling with the tingle of life that they all loved and coveted so very, very much.

The light finished with a uniform flick, topping the hat of the little man that was freed. Mario wrung his white-gloved hands, wriggling his fingers experimentally, clearly savoring the feeling of life once more. He limbered his arms with a quick movement, shifting in his blue overalls, golden buttons glinting as though newly polished. His large brown shoes clicked on the ground as he began to bounce on his toes, adjusting the red hat that hid his brown curls, round nose twitching over his wondrously thick mustache, blue eyes flashing with the eagerness for a fight. He looked up as a second flash illuminated the skies.

Another trophy tumbled down from the heavens, also landing perfectly opposite of Mario. The light came once more, wiping away the cumbersome gold base from the red, flat feet this second character, who bounced excitedly and flapped his small, stubby little arms to the cheering crowd around him. Kirby was short, to say the least, and round, made of a smooth, pink, jiggly substance that followed his movements - the typical puffball. The only other distinguishing features he had were his large blue eyes that shone with a giddy excitement, and his triangular mouth, which was currently open in an 'o' of delight.

The wild cheers of the indistinct crowd finally lowered slightly in volume, and Mario, taking his cue, took a step forward, raising his fists. Kirby blinked, and then responded with an eager bounce forward.

Finally, the battle would begin.

Quite far away, in a gray temple situated far in the heavens, a young boy smiled in delight. His snowy wings rustled in happiness, and his wide navy eyes reflected the silvery glow of a scrying pool that bubbled up through the bowl that sat on its pedestal before him. His untidy brown hair, crowned with a wreath of golden leaves, was also bathed in the ethereal glow. Pit's white toga rustled as he leaned closer to the images that danced on the glinting surface of the precious, limitless water, excitement mingling with nostalgia and longing all at once. He gazed in admiration as Mario, the great warrior of this time, launched a fireball at Kirby. The puffball dodged and opened his mouth wide, and Mario could only struggle as he was sucked in, and then spat back out as a star.

And so the battle went on. Pit drank it all with his eyes, as though the battle itself were the oasis in the scorching desert, shimmering in a gentle mirage before a weary traveler's eyes. Oh, if only he could fight again…but no, his time was over. He had known it, deep inside, from the very beginning, and had accepted it without question. His place was here, with his goddess, whose time had passed as well…

And so he could only watch, and wonder, and wish.

Or so he thought.

It was Mario who dealt the final blow.

The battle had been raging for quite some time now, and the exhilaration of the simple skill of the combatants, the constant near-misses, the powerful blows dealt back and forth with such eagerness…the blurry crowd had gone wild and continued to cheer, the volume almost deafening.

And then, finally, it had happened. Both of them had been airborne, and Mario had brought down his fist on the puffball's head, sending Kirby flying backwards, the surprised expression on his round face emphasizing his bafflement. And then he had struck the border line of the stage.

In a blinding flash, a myriad of bursting light, Kirby vanished, while Mario bowed his head at the edge of the stage and took off his hat to the fallen warrior. The crowd exploded, confetti fluttered thickly in the air, and then there was a dull flash from the sky. Mario took a respectful pace backwards as Kirby's trophy tumbled from the heavens.

Indeed, the trophy seemed to have lost its falling grace. It landed with a bounce on its round side and rolled slightly, until it was right before Mario's feet. The object was a sad sight to behold. Kirby's figure was frozen in a cheerful wave, blue eyes decked only with a seemingly painted sparkle - but there was no life in that thing, no feeling. Even the pink color of the puffball was dulled, and the whole thing looked artificial, a mere toy.

It was a truly horrible fate.

Mario leaned forward and touched Kirby's side, withdrawing his hand quickly as though it had been burned, though sympathy shone in his eyes. A small gold spark jumped from his fingertips and spread into fire along the pink body, flowering into a flame of light. The golden base was swept away, and Kirby bounced on his feet, as though he had been awakened from a dream, or perhaps a nightmare. He hopped from left to right, gazing around in confusion at the still-cheering crowds, and then caught sight of Mario. He smiled, eyes shining. The two came forward and shook hands.

The crowd went wild, intermingled voices screaming appreciation. Kirby and Mario allowed the sound to wash over them, let the euphoria of victory take hold. They stood back to back, waving, acknowledging, another day's worth of fighting gone well.

And then there came a rumble from behind, and there was a red reflected glint in Mario's eyes as he turned to see what it was.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I am not a member of HAL Laboratory or any Nintendo-related job facility, for that matter. It only makes sense that I don't own Super Smash Bros. Brawl, or any of the characters hence referred. …sigh -- It's really a pity, too…

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The Halberd rose over the edge of the stadium, majestic and alarming as it rode a thick wave of unnaturally red cloud, swooping into view amid the roiling sea of scarlet. It was a masked ship, so to speak, large and long and riddled with sharp edges. It rode upon the outspread of its two jagged wings, which seemed to cut into the sky, or what little remained, for that pristine blue was soon ingulphed by the eating red of the storm heads. The Halberd was a fighting ship - that was obvious enough - and yet the Halberd that we all knew now seemed changed…it were as though someone had shrouded it in something more than that red cloud, something that emanated a grim, organized sort of ominous foreboding.

The very air seemed to tighten as it emerged, as though sucking sharply in a gasp. Mario now turned fully, staring openly, and Kirby was surprised as well, if not even more astonished, bouncing backwards in shock. Something in his memory told him that he knew this ship, that it happened to belong to a particular rival and friend…but what was it doing here, and why?

The immediate sense that something was not right overtook the stadium faster than the shadow of the clouds. The voice of the crowd seemed to subside as though in fear, melting into an astonished murmur of disturbed wonder. And still the Halberd towered, dominating the skies, mysterious and suddenly dangerous.

Things got even stranger as soon as the substance started falling.

It was hard to give any other name to the stuff that began to drift down from the heavens. It seemed a crude impersonation of snow, though it shared none of the cleanness and beauty that snow would have claimed. In fact, the substance seemed to in fact come from the belly of the Halberd itself. They came in very small, round globules of a purple composition, and as they made contact with the ground they seemed to bunch together into puddles that roiled and rippled in violet lumps.

Mario and Kirby could only watch in confusion and alarm as the puddles began to rise, to change. The particles bulged and swelled, melding together, all the while growing taller and taller, until each puddle had expanded to a figure around three feet tall. The three-foot pillars of the purple substances then began to congeal simultaneously, warping even tighter together. Features were somehow melded from the mush, like clay being crafted into a figurine. A round, bulbous bulge at the top of each pillar became a head, and arms swelled outward and solidified, flailing almost experimentally. Legs formed soon afterward, supporting slightly rectangular bodies and sloshing in the substance of their creation, which soon faded away, apparently used up by the little beings.

Mario and Kirby found themselves surrounded by humanoid, purple-skinned things with pupil-less orange eyes that were clad in orange uniforms and wore orange gloves on many-fingered hands, accompanied by strange little orange hats. All of them turned to face the two heroes in the center of the stadium. And though they were small, there seemed to be a weird sense of malice that hung around the beings, malice that permeated the air of the entire area. Malice directed towards Mario and Kirby.

Zelda and Peach could only stare for a moment from where they stood amid the tossing, concerned crowd, aghast and confused and disgusted all in one breath. Then their in-born instincts began to kick in, and their expressions soon settled into grim frowns. Those two were clearly outnumbered, and whatever those things were, they didn't belong. The sense of that one fact resonated in their very souls. These things were wrong, were not supposed to be here - and they would have to be eliminated.

Zelda vanished then and there, easily sliding into the invisible fabric that was space and time. Moments later she emerged from that same current of fabric in a flash of emerald light, a flicker of golden ribbon, and she was beside Mario, face utterly serious as she wrung her wrist. The trail of energy the movement left in the air presented that one plausible warning even as Peach drifted down as well to land next to Kirby, neatly resting her large white parasol against her shoulder and gazing curiously at the beings around them.

A second passed, and then, quite suddenly, the beings charged.

Close by, watching the ensuing fight that began down below, a certain short, squat warrior chuckled, leisurely scratching his belly and hefting the weight of the large silver-and-violet blaster in the other hand. The problems of others had always greatly amused him, and he simply sat back and enjoyed the frantic disturbance below on the battlefield of the stadium. But he also knew better than to forget the task he would have to perform soon, and he relished that thought again, an evil grin spreading across his flabby face.

This was going to be fun.

The four heroes below finally took a step back, thinking their fighting done, all of them watching the small, minor bloom of light as the last of the little beings hit the border line of the stage. As it turned out, the beings weren't at all that difficult to defeat, almost profusely minor in comparison to a full-fledged brawler, but they had presented a threat all the same. They were easy problems to eliminate. And yet they had even bigger ones on their hands.

All of them peered up in surprise as a puttering sound filled the air, trailing down from the shadowed Halberd that still loomed above. The source of the puttering came into being as it drifted nearer - it was a person of some sort, about as tall as the deceased beings that had previously filled the stadium. It stood on a green mechanic base of some sort, a base that dangled a large silver ball with a red X emblazoned upon it. The person on the base seemed to be clad in a metallic-looking green cloak with a pearly brooch to hold it closed, and wore a pointy green hat made of the same fabric, with an underlying red fabric peeking out at the brim. The hat dangled a ribbon of some type that flapped with the person's movement, and the hat and cloak seemed to create a dark hole where the person's face was hidden - only two large, round, luminous eyes glowed from that deep hole, eyes with no pupils.

The thing drifted lower and lower, and it soon hovered a short way in front of them, floating a few feet higher than their heads. There was a creak of hinges and the large silver ball fell to the ground with a trembling thud that made the stadium itself shiver. And the person remained, drifting just above it, surveying the four heroes with an odd aura of supreme disdain, even scorn. The wise malice it exuded was even worse than the combined stare of all of the Primid that had appeared before.

Before the four could react there was a whirring sound, and two robots emerged from nowhere behind the ball, rolling on tank treads to opposite sides. Both extended what looked like magnetic probes, and with a slap each one connected to the ball. The R.O.B.s pulled back, and the ball slid open with a thick hum, red X flashing once.

Mario was especially alarmed at the contents revealed. This was most certainly a bomb if he'd ever seen one, and he most certainly had in his memory. A huge rectangular timer took up most of the inside of the ball, slowly ticking away from the start of three minutes. But connected to two rods atop the timer was a small globe of some dark, violet, crackling substance that trembled and sparked with every beep the timer emitted with every second.

The person nodded to them solemnly, a simple subtle movement of hat and cloak, and then it was gone, puttering away, back to the belly of the Halberd, from which it had emerged. And the timer beeped on.

Mario was the first to move. With a start and a squeak of his shoes he was running forward, straight for the timer -

And there was an explosion from behind them, and the princesses and Kirby leapt to either side in surprise, and Mario skidded to a halt to look back and see what had happened. And a huge cannonball flew from a cloud of smoke, striking him squarely in the face.

With a surprised shout Mario was flying, straight up. And because there was no border line in the air, he simply kept flying, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake, until he vanished into the layer of clouds above, a flashing star the last to be seen of him. The crowd groaned in anguish and bafflement.

Kirby took a step forward and peered up after his comrade, now utterly confused. However, he was soon distracted by a scream, and swung around to find the two princesses dangling above his head in cages. Cages that were being held by a massive piranha. Petey Piranha.

Peach shook her head in distress, the predicament instantly bringing back memories of capture and imprisonment. Zelda's head turned wildly as she grasped the bars of the cage, searching for a way out. Except there was none.

And Petey Piranha was slowly rising upright, huge fanged mouth spread in a permanent predatory grin. Kirby bounced backward as the plant suddenly lunged forward, leaf-arms swinging, smashing the two cages together in complete ignorance of the inhabitant's cries of pain. Then Petey threw his head back and roared, revealing all of his fangs and the cavernous gulf of his mouth.

A mouth that Kirby could easily fit inside.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Uh, yeah, I've been slacking a little, I know. Not that it has anything to do with writer's block in particular, but when you come right down to it homework gets pretty tedious. And we've got snow on this end!! I had no idea how to make a snowman, so I've been kinda experimenting lately…but wait, I've started chattering, huh? Sorry about that. Let's get on with the actual story.

Disclaimer: Right, yeah, I don't own Super Smash Bros. or any characters related. If I did, I'd be filthy rich, wouldn't I? -shifty eyes- Hmmm…come to think of it, I could use a few bucks…maybe some college funds wouldn't be so bad after all…

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Kirby hopped backwards as Petey swung the cages again. The princesses didn't appear to be in the best of conditions at that moment, and the harsh clang of metal against the stadium floor was enough to make anyone flinch, let alone be the source of it.

Kirby liked to play around, but he got the notion that somehow this strange, giant plant with no eyes and a mouth larger than his own wasn't exactly frolicking about. It fully intended to destroy him. And Kirby knew that he couldn't afford to be trapped within his trophy again, with that bomb ticking on behind him and his remaining allies dangling in cages. So he initiated the only reasonable option, and hurled himself forward in a ball of flame.

Petey Piranha, slightly taken aback by this offensive reaction, lurched backwards, but then embraced the battle with another step forward. His large head swayed precariously as he swung the cages around and about, attempting to bat the pink puffball flapping around in front of him. But Kirby was quite ahead of him by then.

In full fighting mode now, the puffball leapt up and toppled through the air with his large hammer following his circular motion, catching the plant beneath the jaw. Not missing a beat, Kirby hit the ground running and bounced up once more, dealing a midair double kick with his large, flat feet, clipping the monster once more.

Roaring, more in anger than pain, Petey Piranha swung the cages in a wild frenzy, plying them against the ground with blows that made the stadium tremble. Kirby dodged them, but the metal of Peach's cage shrieked as she swayed inside, looking quite battered and disoriented. Indeed, the bars were now warped and bent, the screws holding it together loosening with every blow Petey Piranha tried to land on the elusive Kirby.

Kirby struck hard with yet another kick, and Petey lurched drunkenly, cages swinging. Kirby, seeing his chance, bounced as high into the air as he possibly could and landed a skull-crushing blow right on the top of the large plant's head.

For a moment it seemed as though the whole stadium was frozen. Petey stiffened, and a final roar escaped from his massive mouth - but that was all. Even as the plant tried to raise itself upright, its joints seized up, and its jaws locked shut. A golden light pushed its way out of him, and then there was a deafening explosion as Petey Piranha literally blew up.

Thick smoke filled the air, and there was a scream of tortured metal. Kirby, luckily unscathed, leapt out of the cloud unharmed, with a bruised but free Peach following right behind him.

Both glanced at each other in relief, seeing the other unharmed, but Peach quickly glanced around as she realized that her companion was still somewhere in the smoke, which soon cleared. Zelda was revealed, struggling to rise out of a small crater, beside which her cage lay, twisted and split open by the force of the explosion.

Before the two could move, however, there was a cackle. Both looked up in surprise as Wario dropped down as though from nowhere, landing with a large thump on the stadium grounds.

Peach leapt back in alarm with Kirby, for on Wario's face was a huge grin that outlined pure malice. His ragged denim motorcycle outfit flapped as he pulled himself laboriously upright, hefting a huge silver blaster behind him as his round belly jiggled. His yellow helmet glinted in the red glow of the clouds above.

However, he did not seem to want to immediately attack anyone, though he gave Kirby a scornful glare through one of his greedy, beady eyes. Instead he eyed Peach with interest…until he noticed movement behind his back. Wario whirled around and spotted Zelda, just rising out of the crater and only just seeing Wario for the first time. Her eyes widened in surprise.

Wario's grin widened, and he turned around completely, hefting his blaster. It was a huge weapon, almost as big as he was, but that didn't seem to hinder him too much. Instead he grasped the large trigger and squeezed, ducking his head as though bracing himself.

The heroes could only watch in petrified shock as the blaster began to charge, a low, rolling crackle of contained energy permeating the air as the pink knobs all over it began to glow, brighter and brighter.

Zelda was the first react. She pulled back, realizing the danger she was in, but she was still dazed and battered from her recent beating, and moved seconds too late.

There was a huge blast, and a black arrow lined in yellow shot out of the blaster at a surging speed, making way straight for the helpless Zelda. There was a blinding flash as it collided…and when the flash faded, a trophy tumbled stiffly from the air and landed on its side, where Zelda lay in pose, about to initiate an attack.

Wario leapt forward with a satisfied grin, landing beside the trophy. It was taller than himself, but he didn't seem to mind that - he simply shouldered that priceless item and turned to the two mortified onlookers before him…and laughed. Then, blaster in one hand, Zelda's trophy in the other, he turned and leapt into the air…and was gone. As though he had never been there.

Peach started forward in despair, but Kirby merely shook his head and turned the other way, beginning to run. Peach soon followed him, remembering the bomb and understanding Kirby's reason.

Even as Kirby ran past that bomb, he blinked in panic, for the timer had fallen to ten seconds…nine…eight…seven…

The crowd around the stadium suddenly fell silent for the first time in the history of the area. Then it began to blur and thin, until it was a static-filled gray smudge that lined the stadium itself. And the glowing purple ball atop the timer expanded, crackling hungrily, knowing its time had come…

High in the red-lined sky, the stadium floated. There was a flash, a pulse in the air. And the suddenly a huge purple globe of roiling darkness exploded from within with an ear-popping implosion, quickly expanding and swallowing the stadium whole. The globe hungrily expanded, eating away the clouds and the sky, the earth below.

But there was a small flash of gold at the lip of the subspace dome. The golden sparkle expanded, and a small spectacle flashed through the air for a brief moment. It was a large glowing star with five rounded points, which emitted a stream of smaller stars behind it as it hurried on through the skyline, supporting two heroes. A puffball and a pink-clad princess.

And rising from behind the ever-expanding dome of black, sleek and threatening, was the Halberd, lurching into pursuit…

2/5/08

A/N: Many apologies of I fail to update for a little while. Not that I want it to happen, but we're getting some pretty severe weather on this end, (thunderstorms, tornados, the works), so my PC may be put out of service for a while. In other words, if it happens to be busted out by a bolt of lightning or something, the stories I am currently working on will be automatically put on an indefinite hiatus. But don't worry! I will try everything I can to get back online soon. So hang in there!


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Yes, I have returned! My PC has survived, so let us rejoice!! …Uh, yeah, well, anyways…let's see what's in store for our heroes now…

Disclaimer: …Suppose I said that I _did _own Super Smash Bros Brawl and all related characters? Suppose I embraced such a title with open arms and flounced it on the world-wide net of FanFiction? What would happen to me? Would I be arrested? Banned? Laughed at? Ignored completely? Such intriguing questions…

…Nah. Ain't worth it. I own nothing, nadda, so there.

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The very power of the all-devouring explosion made the foundations of the scrying fountain quiver in an in-bound sort of stony horror. The purple globe blossomed on the silvery surface of the precious water like a plague, actually emitting a humming sound as ripples danced in agitation across the image, distorting it. Pit, alarmed and surprised, jerked his head back sharply, afraid for a brief moment that the purple, all-devouring mass that had filled the entire view-point of the scrying fountain might reach out and beyond, engulfing himself and the temple as well in its hungry, massive, unstoppable darkness.

The terrifying moment passed as quickly as it had come. Pit drew forward once again, gently grasping at the lip of the scrying bowl to calm its incessant trembling. He bent his concentration on the water itself, and the ripples cleared slowly, though the water continued to quiver piteously. Pit could only watch with a sort of horrified fascination as the globe continued to expand, never pausing, filling the red skies, pushing its way across the now-barren earth so far below with a ravenous abandon that kindled the terror that quailed deep inside of him, the same terror that made these precious, sentient waters cringe.

But what was this thing? Pit shook his head - he couldn't understand it. This thing didn't belong, he could feel it deep in his bones. It had never played any part in any memory he held within, and the same could probably be said for the recollection of others. But whatever it was…it wasn't good. And now here it festered, eating away at the realms around it…what would happen once it reached the border that all places had? Would it move on, to other lands, other dimensions? Or would it simply stop there and roil amid itself, condemning this distant world to eternal darkness? Either notion disturbed him greatly, and fear was soon replaced by anxiety.

At almost that exact same moment, a rolling warmth suddenly caressed his back, making his wings flap involuntarily…a familiar, welcoming warmth that briefly vanquished those feeling of fear and uncertainty. Pit knew it well, and turned around, hardly missing a beat as he took a few steps forward and then sank down on one knee, in honor of the individual that had arisen to meet him.

She stood there regally, not at all stiff with the weight and tasks of high royalty, but at ease, gentle, with that slight smile caressing her faintly glowing features. Green wings almost as glowing and translucent as the rest of her glimmered at her back, more a beautiful image than an apparatus of flight, and her flowing emerald hair shimmered under the light of the halo of golden leaves she wore as a crest. The many subtle colors of her robe shifted and cycled through gentle hues of red and orange and gold, so subtle the eye almost couldn't notice it.

The goddess Palutena cast warm eyes over her most trusted of warriors, as well as closest of companions. With a graceful lift of one gloved arm she acknowledged Pit's bow and bid that he stand, and as the angel did so she cupped the slim palm she had lifted, the light touch of her fingers gently teasing something in the air that none but she could see.

There was a flash of gold, a shivering thrum, as the object suddenly came to being, expanding from a golden globe into the slim, unmistakable contours of a cerulean bow, edged with gold. Another tilt of the same hand, and it floated obediently, swishing through the air with a fine-tuned flick, and settling directly into the outstretched grasp of the admiring Pit. Even as it made contact with his touch, two pulses of light rippled from the bow's surface and solidified as bracelets on Pit's forearm, where they remained, glowing and at ready.

Pit grasped the bow tighter as the meaning of this gift came to bears with this amazement. Already a surging sort of happiness was filling every nook and cranny of his adventure-starved soul. Yes, this could only mean one thing…

It was time for him to fight again.

Pit gazed up at the goddess with an expression of undying gratitude, but Palutena only smiled slightly wider. For there were things to be done. She lifted her arm once more, this motion solid and sure, and pointed. Away.

Pit nodded, a smile spreading across his own face. Wings fluttering in excitement, he quickly turned away, glancing back once with shining eyes as he ran to give the goddess a giddy, boyish wave. Then he was off, around the scrying fountain, climbing the stairs and then…he was there. His wishes were finally coming true.

Pit turned around and spread his arms wide, hardly able to contain his excitement. But still he closed his eyes and concentrated, falling into the deep pools of thought as he had been taught, asking that simple request, a favor repressed for so very long…

There was an acquiescing rumble. A line of light poked through the dark wall behind him, growing wider and wider as the doorway of the temple slowly opened to the outside world. Beyond was revealed a strange landscape of blinding sunlight and rolling red cloud, threatening and beckoning all at once. And the wind came, whispering, whipping and scudding along the clouds, tapping at Pit's back, tugging every feather of his wings.

Pit assented gladly, allowing himself to fall backward…into the world of the living once more. A grin spreading across his face, he righted his direction, brown hair whipping, snowy wings flapping. Then he was gone, diving into the wall of cloud far below.

The goddess watched him go, and approached the scrying fountain, comforting it with a gentle touch. With a single flicker of thought she wiped away the image of the devouring subspace and reverted it, opening a view to her warrior and champion as he lanced through the clouds, pure happiness following his every movement. Palutena clasped her hands and watched, heart warm with affection for the young angel who would do so much just for her. And now she would be his guardian, watching over him as he had her, until the thing that belonged not was exorcised for good. She would most certainly aid him, oh yes. If ever he needed her, all he would need to do would be to call. And she would unleash her contained wrath on his enemies.

A slight smile tugged on her face, visible even as the entrance slowly growled shut and bathed all of the temple in silvery darkness once more. But Palutena would wait. And she would watch, and hope.

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A/N: Yes, rather short, I know, but filling. Much more will be on the way soon.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Yup, that's right, I'm an undercover agent of HAL Laboratories, and I'm sharing this with the rest of you because I have nothing better to do. Believe it.

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Fox McCloud knew something was wrong the moment he spotted it on his radar.

The casual cruise of the skies in his Arwing had been a relatively peaceful…until now. Now a frown curved under his creamy snout as he peered intently at the large blip continued to flash plaintively, demanding his attention. His pointed ears twitched slightly, unconsciously following the almost silent hum of the craft's engine as they had been trained, on constant alert for any sign of a problem, but otherwise Fox's full attention remained bent on the radar.

The chiseled realm of creamy clouds and faded sky scudded past the Arwing, the golden light filtering into the vibrating cockpit to reflect slightly on Fox's auburn fur, tipping each of his whiskers in silver. The same light also played on his close-fitting headset and reflected brightly in his flinty emerald eyes, which were trained on the radar image.

The blip grew even larger as the Arwing flew on, pulsing ominously and labeled a neutral gray. Fox blinked - he might have been mistaken, but he got the notion that this thing was steadily expanding. But whatever it was, it certainly hadn't been there before.

Even as Fox watched, two much smaller blips suddenly detached from the main one. One of the blips, an extremely tiny one labeled green, seemed to be making a hasty retreat from the second one, which happened to be much larger…and was labeled almost instantaneously in red.

Fox's frown deepened. Returning to the Arwing's main controls, he set about changing course. The ship obliged to his skilled touch easily, banking to the left and skimming a sharp wing in the rosy clouds as it flew in a curve, soon righting itself and rushing forward once more with good speed. Fox casually activated the weapons systems as his fighter hurried on.

An aerial battle seemed to be in order, for red could only mean a hostile enemy. Yet his mind couldn't help but travel back briefly to that large gray spot that steadily expanded even as it eventually slid out of the range of the radar. The very thought of it brought an uneasy lurch to his stomach, making him grasp the joystick before him a little tighter. Yet he could not shake off the feeling that the red enemy that he was about to confront was not the only problem, that something was terribly amiss…

With a uniform manipulation of controls, the Arwing pushed forward even faster than before.

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In a flurry of misty red Pit found himself plunging out of the thick outer layer of cloud that had been situated in the upper atmosphere, breaking into sunlight once more. With a flap of his wings he managed to steady himself a little, pulling himself upright but continuing to drift quickly downward. Scaling the whiter clouds that stretched out below, he caught sight of a slab of solid cloud and made for that, remembering its looks from his past ventures in these parts.

With a soft thump he eventually landed on both feet, his wings flapping and falling still in this brief reprieve from use. Inhaling a deep gulp of the cold, crystal air that flapped and scudded around him, Pit scanned the area from horizon to horizon with sharp blue eyes, frowning. The great Mario would have to be up here somewhere, unless he had been very much mistaken, something Pit highly doubted.

A flash of gold caught his eye, and he turned. However, he had been a second too late, and only caught a glimpse of golden light as something streaked over his head, far above. Then it was gone, hidden behind a thick front of large clouds to his right.

Pit didn't even have time to puzzle over this strange phenomena before something else came into view, something much larger and darker. His attention was immediately riveted as the Halberd suddenly loomed into view, shrouded thickly in shadow despite the bright sunlight. Pit could only stare as it rose into view, coasting the air-currents with a chillingly calculated calm. And then it rose over his head.

There was a hiss of something pulling open, and Pit took a step back as purple material started falling from the sky, pouring through an opening in the belly of the massive ship. Then the Halberd continued on, not even pausing in its ponderous flight, headed off in the same direction as the streak of golden light.

Pit would have gone after it, but he found he had larger problems were he stood. His head turned and his wings flapped in agitation as the material began to congeal all over the slab of cloud he stood on, growing and melding into Primid, the same beings he had seen on the stadium through the scrying bowl.

The same things that didn't belong.

The Primid flapped their arms and turned to him, as uncaring and single-minded as zombies. Then they started to walk forward, slowly but surely, arms held out to their prey.

Pit's face tightened, though an eager bubble of excitement swelled in his chest. He grasped Palutena's bow tighter, clasping the gray-banded center. Then, with a deft twist, he pulled the bow apart, a flash of gold signifying the movement. These cerulean scimitars hummed in warning as he swung them into a defensive position, ready to hack into the gooey flesh of Primid. And within seconds, the battle began.

Several went down then and there, melting into purple puddles that vanished into nothingness or finding themselves launched right off the cloud and into the fluffy red abyss below. Pit took off across the platform, hacking and slashing as he went, and jumped off of it to the next one below that. And so he continued his journey, clueless Primid persistently following him to their deaths. Strange creatures comprised of white cloud also swooped from the background, engaging in the fray, but they stood not a chance, as did the electric eyes that met the same fate, and even more creatures that Pit didn't have time to note. He only knew one thing about all of them, and that was the fact that none of them belonged.

And then Pit met a challenge.

With a deft sweep of his wings he descended to the lowest platform of cloud he could find, Primid jumping out flightless into empty air behind him, and then Pit spotted it, and his heart leapt. The golden base of a trophy, half-buried in a swathe of cloud, glinted brightly right ahead of him. It could only belong to one individual.

He started forward and then paused, glancing around. Something was not right. And then he leapt backwards, almost too late. An enormous, ball-shaped thing fell from the sky and onto the cloud with a huge thump, huge yellow eyes flashing erratically. It rolled on wheels attached on its base, turning to face Pit, and swung its arms angrily - arms that were in fact two _humongous_ scythes, each one about twice as long as Pit was tall.

Pit took another step back and swallowed. And then Mario's trophy caught his eye again, and his determination solidified. With a cry he ran forward - and leapt into the air.

In a tumbling dive he narrowly missed a spinning scythe, then landed a heavy slash to the thing's disproportionately small red head. Something between a hum and a growl erupted from the Greap, and another scythe sang through the air. Pit dodged that one, but the ball-thing lunged forward at the same time, smashing into him from above.

Breath knocked out of him, Pit tumbled backwards through the air and his wings gave way - he lunged outward and grasped the damp edge of the cloud platform with seconds before freefall to spare. Gripping this edge more tightly, he swung himself back up and landed splay-legged on the cloud once more, panting and trying to ignore a throbbing in his ribcage, which had been hit by the most impact. Wincing, he drew himself up and glared at the Greap, which swung around and surveyed him with an equally malicious yellow eye. Then, not missing a beat, Pit deftly reconnected the his blades, forming a bow once more, and took archer's stance, his bracelet arm pulling back as he grasped at empty air - which suddenly materialized into a fine gold bowstring, equipped with a gleaming arrow comprised completely of golden light, two bracelets of gold dangling at its head…indeed, there was nothing on Pit's right arm now.

He pulled back hard and then let go, the bracelets bouncing back to his wrist and the bowstring disappearing as the arrow shot forward, leaving a trail of gold in its wake. The holy arrow struck the Greap right in the face, making it stop in its tracks. It hummed angrily, momentarily blinded.

Pit took his chance with gusto, leaping into the air once more and smoothly disconnecting the bow again. Then he landed a powerful strike on the Greap's head, incorporating both blades and his own fist. He landed on cloud again on the other side, and watched in amazement as the Greap tumbled straight up into the air as though it were a balloon, spinning wildly from the strike. There was a myriad of lancing, pearly light as it struck a stage boundary, and then it was gone.

He drew himself upright once more, glancing around. Surprisingly, there wasn't a single enemy to be seen in the clouded landscaping now. Shrugging off the strangeness of their disappearance, he instead turned and ran forward. To Mario's trophy.

Soon he was standing before it, gazing in a mixture of horror and sympathy. The little that he could see of the trophy had a gray pallor, and Pit flinched on contact as he grasped the large base and pulled it from the cloud, setting it upright on the cloud platform. He drew back briefly, took a breath, and then came forward again, placing a palm on Mario's head.

There was a flash of gold that flared form his touch, and Pit respectfully stepped back. He watched as Mario came to life on his hands and knees, clearly confused. The most famous of all Nintendo characters adjusted his hat and pulled himself to his feet, looking directly at Pit for the first time.

There was a moment of stillness as they both looked at each other, Pit in admiring respect, Mario with gratitude. Unspoken understanding passed between them as well - it was obvious that they both knew what had happened, as well as each other's determination to make things right again.

Finally, Pit tilted his head sideways, to the creamy landscape that awaited their footsteps. Mario nodded in agreement. Then, with a great leap, the two heroes took off, into the misty realm.

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A/N: Er, yeah, my brother doesn't have any Starfox games as of now, so I have virtually no idea about how an Arwing actually works. Pardon if the description is far from the truth. I might modify it later on if I get a pointer, but for now this'll have to do.


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Oh, this is the greatest torture for an author to undertake, to admit that a work is not theirs. Woe is me, and I is woe…such shame…but only the truth will suffice. I own nothing in this chapter, except for the spark of imagination that drew me to type it. There, I have said it. Now I shall commit suicide.

Er…hem. I was joking about that, just so you know…no good killing myself when the story is just starting to get to the good part…

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Princess Peach clung tightly to the round, bouncy body of Kirby, who was bent slightly forward, guiding the Warpstar onward. With wide eyes she craned her head to look back at the stadium they were leaving behind…except that the stadium was completely gone, utterly shrouded in the expanding globe of subspace, and that large ship was rising from behind it, clearly chasing after them. Peach's stomach lurched and she turned away, closing her eyes and ducking her head to protect herself from the increasing jet stream. She only hoped her crown wouldn't fly off.

Kirby himself had greater things to worry about. Small arms clinging tightly to the frontal points of the Warpstar, he urged the glowing vassal onward, feeling the Halberd's approach. He tilted it at a swerve and dived into a thick layer of cloud, and both were momentarily blinded by thick red mist. Then they were bursting out, into bright sunlight, and the Warpstar raced across a small clearing of clouds. Kirby cast his gaze along the bottom, where pale, solid slabs of cloud formed a layer. The puffball blinked - had he seen a winged person standing on one of those? No matter…the Warpstar had already whizzed past, and now Kirby directed it behind a thick front of cloud to their right, feeling the Halberd draw steadily nearer. It was moving very fast, faster than the Warpstar, and Kirby knew they could not outfly it - the Halberd had always been swifter in that retrospect. Yet they must try…

Peach and Kirby flew on in silence for a while, the gentle tinkling of the soaring Warpstar and the rustle of clouds around them being the only dominant sounds. And then a roar of engines met their ears.

Peach risked another glance back - she couldn't help herself - and her eyes widened as she spotted the hull of the Halberd, mere yards away. She squeezed Kirby tighter and the puffball understood. Frowning, he tilted the Warpstar upward, and it soared in a higher arc…the Halberd following right behind them. The throbbing of engines grew louder and louder, until it was directly behind them. Yards shortened to feet, feet to inches, inches to centimeters, and then -

A large thump was all it took to upset the Warpstar. Peach cried out as the large, glowing star flipped out from underneath them, toppling wildly into space. And then she and Kirby were in full freefall, as helpless as the pilot-less Warpstar - and both made contact with the deck of the Halberd with a bone-jarring whack.

Kirby was typically the first to recover from the hit, being made of softer, more elastic stuff than regular humans. After separating himself from the wooden deck with some difficulty, he puffed himself back to his natural roundness and helped a battered Peach to her feet. Whistling wind lashed at them, and both could only stand still for a moment and grow accustomed to the large, vibrating platform they stood upon. Kirby scooted himself up to the edge of the deck and peered over, in time to catch sight of his Warpstar, spiraling freely into the vast abyss of cloud below. He quickly backed away from that same edge and turned to Peach. Both nodded. Apparently the pilot or pilots of the Halberd hadn't even realized they were on board yet, and though that posed as a great surprise to the two heroes, they took it for granted and started off across the vast deck, headed for the far end, where an entrance cabin loomed.

The truth was, however, that the pilots of the Halberd had been in fact been distracted by something else, approaching rapidly. And Peach and Kirby couldn't hear the clicking and scraping as lasers and missiles were being readied for the assault.

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The large ship loomed into view from Fox's cockpit as he steered around another thick cloud, and the Halberd reared up before the small Arwing, flouncing its obvious superiority. However, this didn't worry Fox too much. He had always faced bigger before. Instead he calmly turned his eyes to the cloudscape around them, and caught sight of a glimmer of gold.

Fox watched as the floating gold star, carrying two passengers that he couldn't quite identify, was literally bumped from behind and sent flipping, disposing of its passengers as it toppled freely into air. The two passengers fell…and luckily for them, both landed on the deck of the ship, while the star spiraled into space.

The Arwing was coasting ever closer to the Halberd, and Fox lifted his attention from the small scene for the meantime. It looked as though there was now something else at stake here. And with a whip of the joystick, he engaged.

To be literally correct, the Halberd was the first to engage. Immediately, yellow laser-fire filled the air, lancing over in Fox's direction. But the Arwing was smaller and faster, and being piloted by an expert. Fox steered the fighter into a controlled roll, and there was a circling flash along the Arwing's sharp wings as a few lasers struck the shields. Relatively unscathed, the nimble aircraft leapt from the current of laser like a revolting dolphin, and Fox manipulated it into a circling dive, aiming for the vulnerable belly of the Halberd. He gritted his teeth, working the joystick furiously, images and measurements bouncing along the surface of his green lens. Almost there…

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Peach skidded to a halt as they neared the cabin, turning her head and watching in astonishment as laser-fire filled the air to her right. Kirby came beside her and stopped as well, and both watched as a small, blue-lined aerial fighter in the distance shook off the deadly gold spray and sprang into action, approaching the Halberd at an astonishing speed. It came nearer and nearer, and then -

There was a screech of metal, and the two spectators followed with their eyes as some of sort grappling claw punched from the Halberd's side, hurling forward and smashing into the fighter's midsection, uniformly tearing through all four wings. There was a splash of red and yellow sparks, followed by a scream of steel as the claw writhed and swung around, flinging the fighter into the air. It soared up in an arc as the grappler pulled back into the slot it had come from.

Peach and Kirby both took a pace back as the small plane soared higher and higher, and then began to drop precariously, streaming smoke. It fell faster and faster, and then a strong gust of wind buffeted it in a different direction, towards the hull of the Halberd…

By some miracle it didn't smash into the deck, but instead skimmed over it - just low enough to screech right over the two heroes' heads and send them flying overboard, again.

The puffball and the princess found themselves falling through empty air once more…and both knew that, this time, there was nothing to catch them…

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Fox grunted as the grappling claw flew from nowhere, making impact with the ship. The Arwing screamed in pain and then puttered piteously, while Fox found himself being slammed against the headboard, losing grip of the joystick completely. The impact had been immense, and Fox was then flattened against his seat as the grappling hook pulled backwards and swung the ship around, flinging it into space. Red lights began to pulse frantically, and Fox struggled to gather his bearings. He could feel his ship spiraling, about as uncontrollable as that golden star he had seen mere minutes before, and disbelief still filled his head. What kind of ship was equipped with a grappling hook?

The air pressure in the cockpit was decreasing, as the blaring monitors informed him, and Fox lifted his eyes to peer through the cracked window. His heart almost stopped as he realized that the Arwing was headed straight for the flat wooden deck of the opposing ship. This small fighter would be spattered if it made contact, which seemed inevitable…

Fox took hold of the joystick with a vengeance and frantically began to operate the ship as he could. Hardly anything seemed to want to respond - the frame of the Arwing was still in shock. But no. It would work, he would make it work…

With a whimper of crumpled engines the Arwing made a genuine effort to comply to Fox's input of commands…and almost couldn't do it. But Fox felt the fighter stabilize itself ever so slightly…it was lifting away from the incoming deck…it was clear…

There was another much smaller thump that all the same made Fox jerk in his seat, and caused the Arwing to rock. Fox craned his head as the Arwing tumbled away from the large ship - two falling figures, one small and round, the other tall and straight, caught his eye…but they quickly vanished from view as the Arwing began to tip forward alarmingly, naturally falling into a flat-out dive. And he soon forgot about them completely, with more pressing matters on his mind.

The air surrounding the Arwing began to hum, and Fox felt the temperature inside the cockpit rising. The few monitors that were still working indicated a sharply decreasing altitude. Feeling grim, Fox located the reflector at his belt to make sure it was still intact. He would inevitably need it if he was planning to nullify impact. But this was still going to hurt…

A/N: Phew, that was a lot. May not look like it, but still…anyways, like I said, my brother does not have a Starfox game in possession, so inaccurate descriptions of the Arwing will have to be pardoned. But reviews are welcome, obviously.


	8. Chapter 7

A/N: Eh…okay, I'm _really _sorry about the massive delay. The weather is not exactly cooperating over here. Massive power outage. I've been living on a laptop battery that only lasts for an hour and fifteen minutes. Sucks? Tell me about it. But if you're reading this update I'm probably back, for the meantime, anyway.

And on a second note, updates will probably start getting slower from here on out. I'm having to search for some fresh material to connect to, and the storyline's pretty choppy at the moment. Until I find the right fillers and connections I won't be trusting myself to write too much. I don't like speculating on a story like this.

Disclaimer: I really don't have time to make up a funny one right now, so let's just say that I don't own anything. There.

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The thick humid air could not have been more relaxing. Golden sunlight filtered down from a clear blue sky. Insects buzzed and chirped, and the distant call of an exotic bird rang through the still air. Tropical trees rustled, large, waxy green leaves shifting in a telltale wind. The overwhelming impression of growth and prosperity could not have been more clear, more pristine, in this thriving jungle…

And then an abnormal humming sound disrupted it all.

The source of the disturbance appeared for a brief moment, breaking through the thick tropical foliage and onto the edge of a jutting plateau - a floating green platform, driven by a bipedal turtle with a green helmet and a harried expression. And on this platform was piled a huge trove of large, ripe bananas, topped by a teetering Goomba.

The Hammer Bro at the wheel made a break-neck turn, avoiding a run off the edge of the plateau by a hair, and pressed on another route, headed for an easier path to the forest that was shrouded in mist below. And none too soon.

There was a collective shriek, and a flock of birds beat a frantic retreat from a particular area of trees. For beneath these a large ape with a red bowtie had unleashed his rage, and there was a sickening crunch as Donkey Kong smashed an unfortunate Koopa Troopa into the damp earth with a single swing of his massive fist. In another hook the ape whirled around, catching the last of the opposition, a Goomba, squarely in the face. Streaming smoke, it blasted through the leafy foliage and over the edge of the nearby plateau. But that wasn't nearly enough to sate Donkey Kong's rage.

Those bastards had made off with his bananas!

The earthy beneath him shook as the ape beat his way to the clearing. In a single massive leap that seemed to shake the entire forest he was there, on the very edge of the plateau. Then, unable to contain his fury any longer, Donkey Kong let out a roar that echoed throughout the jungle, a roar that made the very bugs go quiet, and beat his fists to his chest. It had been a very, very long time since he had felt so…_angry._

The reason for his rage returned, and Donkey Kong leaned forward, peering over the plateau. And there, sure enough, were the villains who had stolen his precious fruit, the item worth more than gold in his eyes, hurrying away on that wretched platform far below. A snarl rumbled in his barrel chest.

The Goomba atop the precious haul noticed the ape for the first time, and finally decided that the large beast would actually pose a threat. It turned around atop the pile and nudged the two cannons that stood on each end of the platform, and they swung around and aimed for the top of the plateau. There was a crack as all three were fired simultaneously, and the bullet-bills wove a smoky pattern into the blue sky as they flew eagerly for their target.

Donkey Kong noticed the bullet-bills immediately - and snorted. A pity those banana-snatchers couldn't do better. With utmost confidence the ape merely bared his forearms and ducked, knowing that the individual he was expecting would come - and come he did.

With a flurry of leaves that sent even more birds flapping for their lives, Diddy Kong leapt into the clearing and took a second great jump into the air, using his uncle's large back as a small platform. The small monkey's red T-shirt and cap shone brightly in the sunlight, reflecting the equally flaming gleam in his eyes. And in each of Diddy's dexterous hands was a top-quality goober gun, loaded and ready for action.

There was a crack of powdered mahogany and a pair of large peanuts took to the skies, blasting one bullet-bill completely out of course. In a cloud of fire and peanut-bits it toppled from the air, landing yards short of the plateau. But the other bullet-bill, undaunted, raced higher into the air and prepared to dive, sleek back body glinting in a ray of sunlight.

This, too, had little effect on the rallying pair. Diddy smoothly turned upside-down and crossed his arms, launching another volley of nut at the second bullet-bill. And the projectiles met their mark, knocking it completely out of the sky. It toppled down to the ground a few feet behind Donkey Kong, who had shielded his eyes from the sun the whole time, watching the air-fight, and now turned to the fallen bullet. Diddy landed beside him and, as if on cue, the grounded bullet-bill exploded in a cloud of scarlet.

Diddy flicked his peanut guns smugly, but Donkey Kong's attention had already been diverted to the platform that was escaping nonetheless. With a final, pulsing hum it vanished into another fringe of jungle far below. But it would not get away so easily.

Donkey Kong pointed a single finger in the direction of the platform, laying his silent curse. And Diddy, watching and imitating, knew that nothing could save that platform and its inhabitants now. Donkey Kong would hunt it to the ends of the earth if need be, and Diddy would follow his uncle just for the fun of it. The premonition of a good adventure was already triggering the monkey's excitement.

In silent agreement the two leapt off of the plateau with ease, and initiated the grand chase that had been waiting to happen.

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With a coordinated back-flip Diddy Kong landed in this second clearing, tail curled inquisitively as he surveyed this new area.

He had split up with his uncle a few trees back, to expand their search, and so he had gone on his own way. Diddy didn't really mind - he could defend himself. There was nothing that could stop he, the nephew of the great Donkey Kong! Nothing could stand up to him!

Feeling quite satisfied with himself by now, Diddy decided to slow down a little and take in these new surroundings. There always seemed to be a new part of this vast jungle just waiting to be explored, new areas that hadn't been there before. Diddy assumed that this area was one of them. Its most prominent feature was a large circular lake, reflected blue with the clear sky above, and the soil beneath his feet felt soft and damp from recent floods. Diddy padded forward on all fours, intent on the jungle that loomed at the other end of the clearing, but stopped, another sight catching his eye. One quite strange.

Diddy turned completely, noticing the dark fumes and little tongues of fire for the first time. There, at the bank of the lake, was a wreck of some sort, though exactly what it was Diddy could not be sure. It had a metallic glint in the sunlight, though it was shrouded almost completely in smoke. Even as Diddy looked a piece on the thing shifted slightly and clattered, slipping down farther along the crumpled body. It seemed to be quite large, big enough for Diddy himself to fit inside, and quite pointed, lined in dark blue. But at any rate, it did not appear to be alive.

Extremely curious, Diddy took a few steps in the direction of the wreck - and stopped again, chittering in puzzlement. For now a low rumble was filling the air. A rumble coming from the lake. It grew louder by the second, and small ripples began to emerge from its center. The sound grew stronger - Diddy took a step back - and jumped as a huge, green, serpentine _monster_ suddenly burst from its depths, towering high into the sky, molting sheets of crystal water. It had a jagged head and a red-lined mouth, which appeared to be fanged, and a golden pattern ran down its sides and around its sharp eyes, which scanned its territory with piercing accuracy. And then it spotted the wreck.

The monster's neck curved back, and suddenly its fanged mouth flew open, a huge roar escaping from what sounded like the depths of the lake. The very trees around the clearing seemed to quiver with the suppressed energy. Then the monster raised its head, sucking in sharply, and there was a surge of energy as a glowing blue ball formed in its mouth. The monster lowered its head again and the ball of light shot forward with incredible speed, striking the wreck with terrific force.

There was a small explosion and the wreck burst into bright flame, a smoldering pile of metal no more. Diddy jumped backwards and fell on his bottom, mouth opening slightly in shock. The little monkey could only be stunned by the ferocious power of this thing - and he could do nothing when the monster's roaming eyes suddenly fell on Diddy himself.

In an even more surprising maneuver the Rayquaza shot out of the water and into complete flight, snaking forward. With a sweep of its tail it snatched up Diddy in a large claw and skimmed over the water again, writhing monkey in hand. It surveyed Diddy critically, as though wondering how the monkey would taste, and then roared again, right in his face.

Unnoticed by the two, the flaming wreck began to quiver. Then, with a jolt, the fallen Arwing suddenly yielded to its pilot, who shot right into the air.

The Rayquaza lifted its head to pinpoint the source of the sucking sound, but could only watch as Fox McCloud circled briefly in the air for a moment. Then there was a tinkling sound, and Fox suddenly streaked downwards, a blur that left illusions of his silhouette behind.

The Rayquaza jerked as Fox struck its claw upon passing, and Diddy leapt out like a jack-in-the-box, eager to be free. Then Fox landed cleanly on the bank of the lake and turned, confronting the legendary Pokemon with a stern glare. And the Rayquaza, enraged at being cheated of its meal, responded with another firing of its blue light.

Diddy Kong, landing rather unceremoniously on the bank a few yards away from Fox, watched with increasing amazement as the Arwing pilot simply passed his hand over a glowing device on his belt, which suddenly detached its glow and floated in front of Fox, in the way of the ball of light, which struck seconds later. The blue energy was met with a flexible, shield-shaped resistance, and suddenly bounced right back at the surprised Rayquaza. Before it could react the light had struck, stunning the legendary Pokemon, and it flopped back into the clear depths of the lake it had emerged from, sinking temporarily out of sight.

Already the green lens was emerging from Fox's headset again under his command - he knew that the Rayquaza would not remain down there for long. Turning to Diddy, he motioned to the monkey, inviting him to participate in the fight. And as a second rumble began to ensue, Diddy was back on his feet, fear forgotten. Peanut guns at ready.

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Meta Knight flapped through the air feverishly, though he knew in his heart that he had been too late. All the same he drifted through the last of the red cloud…and couldn't help but sway precariously in the air as a breath of cold wind blasted into him, chilling him to the very bone.

With dismay he surveyed the scene before him, silver mask flickering in the waning light. Here the clouds ahead were much more dim and dark, and below the previously fertile land was now barren and brown. So soon…

With glowing golden eyes Meta Knight looked ahead, and his spirits dropped further. For where the stadium that Kirby had been appointed to had been, there was now a massive globe of flaming purple darkness that loomed like an eclipsed sun on the horizon. Surely Kirby could not have escaped that…along with all the other heroes that had been put to battle there…a small bud of anger flickered inside of the Star Warrior. What was this thing, that had devoured these good individuals and all else about it in such abandon? What right did it have to be here? It did not belong - he knew that much. And it had not simply come to be here. Someone or something had initiated it, most likely the same individual that had captured his ship, the Halberd…

And then Meta Knight's sharp eyes caught something in the distance, something alive, standing right at the lip of the devouring globe, simply staring up at it. For a moment Meta Knight could only speculate the foolishness of that person…and then the anger flared up again, and his mind began to race. Then again, who would be so brazen as to stand before this immense thing, this globe that could obviously devour everything? Unless, of course, that individual knew it could not harm him or her…

The anger sparked. And perhaps it was the extremity of the situation, the loss of his rival, or simply the hollow, empty helplessness he felt at being unable to stop this thing. But for once, Meta Knight didn't pause to consider further. Instead he let his anger take control, to catch his wings in an invisible wind of vengeance. With his trusted flamed blade, Galaxia, in one white-gloved gloved hand, Meta Knight shot forward, all attention now bent on the individual standing with such arrogant confidence before the subspace globe.

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Prince Marth Lowell felt himself blanching inwardly at the towering horror before him, yet he couldn't move. He should be running right now, running as fast as his feet would carry him. He should be getting as far away from this thing as possible.

But he could not. He knew that he should, that he was being foolish, and yet…he simply couldn't move. The overwhelming aura of evil and power had paralyzed him, perhaps, or maybe it was simple shock. But either way, he could only stand there, his boots planted in the barren earth, staring up at the huge black dome before him.

The wind wailed angrily at him, at his foolish defiance, and snapped at his navy cape, tugged his blue hair, chilling him deep. His grip on the hilt of his slim blade, Falchion, had never felt so tight to Marth, so absolute. And yet he knew that he could not face this overwhelming dome, this enemy of all enemies, not for all the power he possessed…and that seemed a small fraction now, a little pinprick, a toy for this devouring globe to toss aside with a cruel laugh. There was nothing he could _do_ about this thing, that had poisoned this land and darkened the skies. Yet somehow Marth refused to believe it. Was there nothing he could do for those warriors trapped within? Nothing he could do for this dying world?

He received no answer. The wind merely howled at him, and the dome of darkness loomed ahead, ever larger, ever nearer. And then…

Marth's wide azure eyes caught something, a movement, to his right…something moving abnormally fast…towards him…

There was a clang of steel.

Marth took a pace back, Falchion at ready, and watched as the small, diminutively round creature with its violet bat wings skidded lightly on the ground feet away. It wore a silver-blue mask of sorts with a slit that revealed glowing golden eyes, and it carried a flame-rimmed sword in one hand. Marth hardly had any time to examine this sudden opponent further before it suddenly righted itself, whirling around to face him. Them it was rushing forward, scudding the ground with its wings outspread, blade poised for attack.

The battle ensued. Orange metal clashed against silver steel, leaving outlines of slash marks in their wake as their masters danced around each other, blocking this blow, retaliating the next, both fighting with an equal footing of grace and power. They seemed quite equal…

But something else disrupted this fight, and both swordsmen found themselves pulling forwards to slash at the enemies that had appeared behind each other's backs. And with a synchronized thump they both landed back-to-back, swords plied to these new enemies…and both raised their heads in astonishment. For surrounding them in a complete ring and growing more solid every second were Primid. Both warriors, stunned by the sheer numbers of these things, backed away slowly, until they were right next to each other, both unsure of what to do, with so many of them, and an opponent already at their backs…but wait…

There was a pause, and Marth and Meta Knight both glanced at each other, making eye contact. A silent agreement passed between them. For either way the two looked at each other, one fact seemed quite obvious. These enemies were their enemies.

It was under this compromise that both simultaneously charged forward, side by side, to break out of the circle.

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A/N: Yeah, that first part with Meta Knight was pretty much pure speculation which, like I said, is not something I like to do. If you live in Japan and you have this game and you know it's wrong, please forgive me. I can only do so much…and that part with DK splitting with Diddy was speculation too, darn. I really have no idea what happened between them after the banana raid.

And on a final note, for those who are curious, a goober is just another weird term for peanut. Thought I'd use it once.


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: You know I don't own it. I know I don't own it. So why do I put this disclaimer up anyway?? Not sure myself…

* * *

Kirby was the first to open his eyes, and he bounced upright, looking around. A cool wind blew across his face, and the puffball looked from left to right.

Princess Peach was not too far away, facedown. This having been his primary worry, Kirby bounced over to her, feeling greatly relieved. He nudged her with a stubby arm, and she stirred, then looked up and climbed shakily to her feet, casting Kirby a grateful smile. Both lifted their gazes to the scenery around them.

They had been incredibly lucky to fall on this platform of cloud…or at least that was what they first thought, before realizing that the whole area was in fact a maze, a myriad, of solid cloud. The ethereal scenery spread out before them, loose curls of light mist drifting and fluttering at the edges of their vision in response to the constant wind that blew. Above them a barrier of dark red cloud frowned down at them as a sort of roof, indicating that they were probably in some ruined, forgotten layer of the atmosphere, perhaps once containing inhabitants. But whoever might have once lived here was long gone, and instead creamy bridges and tapering pathways strewn with fluffy loose cloud sprawled out before them, beautiful and mysterious and almost unreal.

Peach gazed in wonder, pondering briefly the possibility of being able to stay here for a while, to rest and be at ease. But a single glance exchanged with Kirby soon banished such lazy thoughts, and both remembered immediately the happenings far below them, on solid ground, where their companions struggled still. And both knew that to stay here was foolish and pointless.

Kirby hopped forward, and Peach walked beside him. The two cast out into the misty expanse beyond, stepping upon the pathways and bridges, and hoping inwardly that one might lead them back to the surface, and its troubles.

* * *

Pit was the first to look up, a puttering sound catching his ears.

He and Mario had been traveling for quite some time now, after descending from the thickly clouded sky. They had ended up on another area of the land, a quiet place, green and forested, with rolling hills and distant mountains on the horizon. Both had agreed at one point on a similar course. The times were obviously quite dangerous, and it was better to travel as a pair. But even in this tranquil area, evil had been afoot. Already Pit and Mario had been confronted by numerous Primid and other unfamiliar beings that so obviously did not belong here.

Pit had been walking slightly ahead of Mario, eagerly drinking the sights and sounds that had been deprived from him for so long. His mind had been wandering back to their journey through the clouds, when they had spotted that great ship on the horizon again. A smaller fighter craft of some sort had been chasing after it, shooting swiftly over their heads with a honed hiss of engines. Pit had been wondering what would become of it, as well as the chances of such a small vessel against the large aircraft that it had obviously been intending to confront. And then, breaking through his thoughts, had been that puttering sound, now growing louder by the second.

Pit stopped and looked up, frowning. Mario came beside him, one hand tilting the brim of his hat as he looked around as well, expression darkening beneath his mustache. He remembered that sound all too well. But where…?

Suddenly the puttering rose to its peak, and the Ancient Minister suddenly drifted over their heads, golden eyes glancing over one shoulder as though in mild surprise as he passed. He was upright and studious upon that same round platform, and dangling from it was yet another silver globe emblazoned with a red X.

Mario was the first to react. He dashed forward immediately and performed one of his renowned leaps, hands reaching out for the globe. But the Minister was swifter, propelling higher into the air, and the globe dangled tantalizingly out of Mario's reach as the plumber reached his crescendo and began to fall back down to earth -

- only to be pushed down faster as Pit suddenly jumped as well, using Mario's head as a stepping-stone and his wings to raise himself higher. With a grunt the angel lashed out a blade in the globe's direction, but the Minister only rose higher still, and the globe evaded Pit's reach as well.

Both hit the ground once more, Mario unceremoniously on his face, Pit landing with a little more grace on both feet. The angel looked up and glared angrily after the Ancient Minister, who cast him an almost empty glance and simply turned away. Fuming, grasp on his bow now very tight, Pit raised himself upright and gazed after the Minister as he rose higher into the sky, globe flashing tauntingly in the sunlight, and grew smaller in the distance, headed for the distant peaks of a mountain range far away. Mario, down beside him, grunted and raised himself on his elbows, giving Pit a raised eyebrow as the angel turned around. At once Pit flushed and quickly looked away, then started hastily down the path once more in pursuit of the vanishing bomb.

And Mario, climbing to his feet and moodily adjusting his hat, let the grudge pass and came forward after the younger veteran.

* * *

Donkey Kong lumbered into the clearing and stopped, taking in the huge pile of yellow bananas before him. His nephew would certainly be impressed by this quick find! But at least all of them appeared to be here…the great ape came forward on all fours, closer to the pile, and raised himself upright, drumming his chest in self-congrats. Apparently those banana-snatchers had decided to leave them all here…how foolish! They hadn't even tried to guard the precious fruit!

Of course, there had been those strange creatures running amok in the forest…Donkey Kong felt his satisfied mood mellow somewhat and sat back on his haunches, pondering. There had been something very unsettling about those things, as though they did not belong here. But surely that couldn't be possible. Everything came from somewhere…right? Donkey Kong fell down to his knuckles and raised his head, surveying the pile of bananas critically. He hoped Diddy would stay out of mischief for the most part, at least until he could put all of these bananas back in their proper places…the sooner, the better…

The ape was so deep in thought that at first he didn't notice the heavy footsteps approaching…until there was suddenly a snorting laugh from behind him.

Immediately Donkey Kong whirled around - and found himself face-to-face with a bipedal turtle that was sporting a mohawk of flaming red hair. Bowser bared his fangs at the surprised ape in a grin, then inhaled sharply and roared, the fearsome sound deafening. And then, as though from nowhere, Bowser produced a blaster, the sleek silver machine perched smugly in the grasp of his large claws. And it was charging.

Donkey Kong reared backwards, then took a step forward, undaunted. So the dastardly Koopa King had attained a blaster, probably another pathetic invention that broke before it was used - it couldn't possibly do much to the ape. But unfortunately, Donkey Kong was badly mistaken.

There was a blinding flash as a burning red arrow streaked outward, catching Donkey Kong squarely in the chest. And the clatter of his trophy thumping on the damp earth could hardly be heard among the screeching of the terrified birds that took off from the surrounding trees and into the heavens. Snorting in satisfaction, Bowser lumbered forward and grabbed the base. One hero down already. This was already too easy.

And this infernal ape wouldn't be the last one, either.

* * *

Fox took a step backwards as the large trophy of the Rayquaza tumbled down, striking the ground with a thud. There the shell of the fearsome Pokemon coiled above its base, colored a gray hue in defeat. Then, while Diddy clapped his hands and celebrated their victory a few feet behind him, Fox came forward and grasped the large trophy, hefting it and tapping the base, which immediately began to flare. With a hastily well-coordinated throw, Fox tossed it back into the lake, where the trophy splashed, sinking beneath the crystal waters, which hid the Pokemon already emerging from it. Fox, turning to his fallen Arwing instead, wasn't too worried about the Rayquaza now - like any warrior fairly defeated, it would resign to its lake and sulk in its depths, disturbing them no more.

Fox strode out to the remains of his ship, already wondering how he should go about repairing it, and if it was repairable at all, but was stopped abruptly by Diddy's grasp on the back of his shirt. Feeling resigned, Fox turned to the energetic monkey and gazed on morosely as Diddy flapped and hooted, gesticulating to the jungle beyond.

Diddy himself was already feeling impatient. His uncle had been depending on him to find those bananas, and this monster had already wasted good time. With Fox on his side the search would almost certainly come to an end even more quickly.

But Fox shook his head and turned away, starting for his Arwing once again. Diddy remained just as persistent, actually dragging him back and gesticulating even more. And when Fox made to refuse again, the monkey uniformly grasped the pilot by the collar of his shirt and dragged Fox with him, marching into the jungle beyond.

And Fox, gazing stolidly ahead and trying his best not to let his position sink in thoroughly, knew he wouldn't have much choice in the matter.

* * *

The skies of New Pork City were gray, but that was usual. Billboards had been torn apart or vandalized, but that was natural. Trash and litter was scattered everywhere, and there was not a single person in sight to pick it all up, but that was common too. And walking in the middle of it all, shoulders slumped, head low, was a short morose young boy with blond hair and a red-and-yellow striped T-shirt.

Lucas moodily kicked a battered red can in passing, deep in depressed thought. This city was an empty shell, and he knew it. Anyone knew. But there was nowhere else to go, nowhere safe…and yet he hated to stay here, in this run-down area with its gray clouds and skeletal buildings. Something deep inside of him wanted to get away, to explore, but that was far too dangerous, too reckless. His PSI powers were far from competent anyway…they were small and weak and useless. No, if he went out to the places beyond, where true heroes and true warriors traversed, he would be laughed at, left out. Surely that was worse than staying here, in this city where no one lived. At least here there was no one to taunt him, to hurt his feelings…

Or so he thought.

He felt it before he actually saw it, a chilling, creeping sensation that chased down his spine. Lucas looked up even as the first purple particles began to drift down from the sky.

The particles formed puddles on the ground in a circle around him and began to materialize, solidifying into little men with orange eyes and hats that moved their limbs erratically and stared at him, sightless and single-minded. Lucas felt his breath catch as he realized he was completely surrounded…and these things were already focusing attention on him, an attention that was not at all friendly.

Lucas turned as a thumping sound grew louder behind him, and gazed up in horror as a huge stone statue lumbered into view, towering yards above his head. It depicted a fat boy in overalls with thick bangs that hid his eyes, crested by a crown. The statue also had two arms longer than its body, thin, flapping arms that held a wrench in one hand and a book in the other.

The statue lumbered forward, and fear exploded in Lucas, yanking every nerve. With a cry he took off running, breaking through the crowd of Primid, which were soon squashed by the huge statue as it began to move faster in pursuit. And still Lucas ran, past buildings and down a deteriorated sidewalk, as terrified as a startled rabbit. Jumbled questions and thoughts raced through his head, as frantic and fluttering as his footsteps: Could that possibly have really been Porky, with some new invention? What had that boy done to himself now? Should he use his PSI powers to defend himself? No, no, he wouldn't stand a chance! But Porky's statue was gaining, looming closer and closer - the thumps of its massive footsteps made the sidewalk crack, made loose slabs of cement tremble. Lucas urged himself to run faster - it was the only option now - run, run -

Something caught his foot. With a gasp Lucas fell on his face and immediately raised himself on his elbows. He tugged frantically, but his foot seemed firmly stuck beneath an outcropping of metal sticking out from the sidewalk. The statue was over his head now, glaring down at him, and Lucas struggled harder, though he knew he couldn't escape now - it was too late - the statue would get him, turn him into a lifeless trophy. But then he heard a shout, a command, a familiar one at that. Lucas knew what it meant, but…how…?

Even as he looked up, a huge round electric ball materialized from nowhere, striking the trophy squarely in the face. The PK Thunder pushed forward, undaunted, and the sheer force of it drove the statue tumbling backwards…it was falling…and with a bone-jarring slam it landed flat on its back on the sidewalk, arms flapping uselessly. Then, floating down from the sky and landing neatly on the sidewalk in front of Lucas, a few shimmering white sparkles tinkling and vanishing from the laces of his shoes, was another boy, the same age and height as Lucas himself. But this boy did not seem afraid at all…a confident smile graced his features, lighting his blue eyes, which shone beneath his dark hair and red baseball cap. And even as the statue raised itself back on its stubby legs, the boy only drew back into a fighting stance, cloak of confidence not even wavering in the least.

A sort of muffled roar emitted from the stone giant, and an almost invisible force pushed out from its midsection as it rose into the air, long arms flapping threateningly. Ness, undaunted, leapt into the air as well and hung there, suspended, face-to-face with this much larger opponent. And his smile widened.

The boy bowed his head and then released the energy he had gathered, which flew out into the open air in a flashing ball of electric green. Before the statue could react the globe struck, melting into its midsection, where it lurked in a glow of green. There was a moment of intense silence, and then the glowing green spot on the statue's belly suddenly exploded, sending shards of stone flying everywhere. Lucas gazed on in amazement as Ness returned to the sidewalk with ease, not one piece of stone striking him, and resumed fighting stance once more, the perfect poise of a PSI user.

He did not flinch, even as a huge purple machine crashed to the earth on eight spiked legs, a cockpit in the middle revealing a fat boy manning the controls. In fact, Ness only raised himself upright, passing a hand over the brim of his hat, where a small flash of energy illuminated his fingertips. And Lucas, finally freeing himself from the strip of copper and standing slightly behind him, somehow knew that this machine wouldn't stand a chance.


	10. Chapter 9

A/N: …What? Have I returned from the dead yet? Who'd say that I died? …Oh. Yeah. The previous hiatus. Well…uh…a decline in motivation? I don't know…I just haven't felt like continuing this lately. UNTIL NOW! Yes, I am back, from the dead or whatever else you might have thought, so deal with it and feast your eyes on the fruits of thought below. Hopefully I won't stop for so long ever again…though I've got no guarantees, of course…:P

Disclaimer: Well…uh…let's see here…what was it now? It's on the tip of my tongue…oh, yeah.

I OWN NOTHING!!

Hm…come to think of it, that was pretty easy to remember…

* * *

Fox McCloud trotted wearily after the active monkey that swung and bounced through the thick foliage of trees a few feet away, his thoughts wandering from one place to the other. The subject of his wrecked Arwing momentarily floated to the surface, but he pushed that down with a flinch…along with the memory of being dragged away from his only hope of pursuing that giant airship by that small persistent monkey.

Diddy Kong himself didn't much care about what Fox might have thought of him at the moment. The previous event with the angry Rayquaza was already a hazy inconvenience in his memory, one that had been eliminated with bravado on his own part. Quite besides, the other creatures that they had been fighting on their way through the forest had been extremely weak in comparison. Diddy's mind lingered briefly on the strangeness of their presence here, a disturbing bubble of sudden realization that momentarily had him coming to a halt on the branch he was about to leap off of.

And then, in that brief moment of stillness, it came to him, and all thoughts of the past were driven away by a glorious wave of incessant glee. The red-clad monkey sat straight up, long tail curving excitedly - Diddy could _feel_ them, like the warmth of a lone campfire in the midst of a cold winter night. Bananas, precious, delicious bananas, somewhere close. Tantalizingly close. A whole pile of them, a gathering to rival his own Uncle's. Donkey Kong's bananas…it must have been. He had found them at last!

Fox stopped underneath the branch, gazing up blankly as Diddy performed a small victory dance over his head. When the monkey finally mellowed a little, Diddy jumped off onto the damp forest floor beside Fox and beckoned, hurrying eagerly into more jungle somewhere to their right before the pilot could even respond.

Fox sighed inwardly and made to follow, but paused abruptly as his headset hummed softly. His green lens, which he had dismissed a few minutes back, now flicked out on its own accord, thick streams of indistinguishable data flooding across in a muddled gold river. But before Fox could react his headset immediately stopped humming, and the lens flicked back as though it had never arisen in the first place.

The Arwing pilot remained immobile for a moment, trying to grasp what might have happened. But the unmistakable shriek of an alarmed monkey brought him back to his senses, and Fox quickly took off into the brush, pulling his blaster from his belt.

* * *

Diddy performed a back-flip, barely escaping the slashing claw of the opponent that had loomed up out of nowhere to attack. No sooner had the monkey landed when the same large bulk suddenly popped out of thin air, falling to crush him. With a screech Diddy took to the air, using the momentum of his flip, and flicked out his peanut guns, shooting an aimless barrage. There were snarling grunts from the smoke of mahogany powder that ensued, bits of nut flying everywhere, and Diddy's flailing tail found the support of a tree-limb. The monkey immediately scrabbled onto the supporting branch as the smoke cleared, revealing the luscious pile of bananas that took up most of the clearing. But Diddy's attention was, perhaps for the first time, directed at something else other than the sight of all these fruits before him.

For clawing at its eyes, staggering blindly out of the pale smoke, was a purple Bowser.

At that moment Fox leapt into the clearing, blaster at ready, and skidded to a halt behind the tower of bananas, assessing the situation. A large, spiky-shelled reptile with an eerie violet tinge loomed before him, wiping bits of peanut from its face and turning to him. As the concentrated glare bored into him, Fox found himself chilled by the feral yellow eyes that focused on him.

This thing wasn't normal. And it most certainly didn't belong.

By reflex Fox found himself raising his blaster, not a figment of hesitation holding him back, and he fired several times very rapidly. The shots struck the purple Bowser without fail, but it remained unhindered, racing towards him instead with a gait that made the ground beneath Fox's feet tremble. The Bowser stretched out its claws.

Fox sidestepped sharply, and was covered by another barrage of peanut from Diddy, who soon swung down beside him. Then the two heroes came forward together, attacking unanimously.

The Bowser roared, a sound that seemed strangely chilling and almost warped, and Fox found himself flying through the air as the impact of his enemy's punch took effect. Diddy was flying too with an indignant screech, but that was all Fox could take note of before he hit the ground on his back, breath instantly knocked out of him. While he was struggling to regain his bearings the Bowser loomed over him, a huge silhouette lined in violet flame, yellow eyes flashing as it raised a claw to strike the finishing blow -

And it yelped as its jaw was clipped by Fox's right hook. The reptilian thing reeled backwards, surprised, and Fox leaped to his feet. There was a brown-and-red blur, however, and before Fox could even lift another finger Diddy had smashed right into the Bowser's side with incredible force. There was a flash of white light.

Fox winced, shielding his eyes, and the light faded to reveal a large purple trophy depicting the reptilian horror falling to the earth with a dull thud.

It were as though the entire jungle had released its held breath. Diddy tumbled into view at Fox's side, hooting and jumping and clapping his hands over his head, and Fox couldn't help but grin slightly to himself. However the smile soon faded, and he frowned as Diddy pompously hopped forward, peering contemptuously at the fallen trophy. The monkey tossed his head scornfully and butted the lifeless thing out of pure daring, giving it a tackle with his right shoulder. And Fox knew immediately that he should have stopped the monkey.

The trophy rocked slightly from side to side, and then simply melted away in a flurry of purple particles, base and all. Diddy leapt backward in horror, and even Fox took a step back, unnerved, as the particles swung into the air and disappeared into nothingness. The simple gruesomeness of the sight would be equivalent to a person in our world watching a new corpse dissolve into mold. It wasn't _right_, and it was the worst possible thing to even happen to a trophy. Something neither of the heroes had ever seen before.

There was a hiss.

Fox and Diddy both leapt to opposite ends of the clearing as a burning gold arrow streaked through the air and, missing its targets, barely cleared the ground in a spray of dirt before disappeared behind them into the jungle. At the source of the blast, mouth bared in a fanged grin, was the real Bowser, large blaster cradled easily in his massive claws. Particles of light were already forming at the blaster's front as the Koopa King charged another blast.

This one landed just between Fox and Diddy, exploding in a cloud of red as the arrow truly met the earth. From the billowing smoke rose Diddy, pummeling his chest and looking for all the world like a miniature Godzilla. To be grabbed at the collar of his T-shirt by Fox.

For Fox knew the nature of blasters in reference to the detached memory of his previous lives, coincidentally, and had gotten the feeling that this thing wouldn't be something to meddle with. The sheer power of the released arrows had been incredible. Enough to turn a fully-fledged fighter into a trophy instantaneously.

And they couldn't afford having that happen to them.

Even as Diddy glared menacingly after Bowser, Fox took off across the clearing and dove into a random patch of jungle, which immediately gave way to a steep cliff. The drop not daunting him in the least, the pilot leapt off of it into the misty greenery below, Diddy dangling beside him. And Bowser, raising himself upright, merely laughed.

This was going to be easy pickings.

* * *

Lucas took a step backwards as the huge robot exploded, white-hot debris flying everywhere. Porky was nowhere to be found…perhaps he had been only a hologram to fool them? Lucas blinked, but soon forgot about that as Ness turned to him, smiling in a proper greeting for the first time. The boy with the red baseball cap offered a hand, and Lucas hesitantly shook it, feeling awkward and almost unnerved. Standing here before him was an obvious veteran of fighting, a PSI Master, and here he was, shaking Lucas's hand and treating him like an equal. Was it all just a polite joke to crush him with later? Lucas simply didn't know.

But he would soon have other, more dire things to think about.

Ness suddenly stiffened halfway through the handshake, and the boy immediately broke his grip and turned around, towards a pile of crumbled cement to their right. Lucas turned as well, wondering what might have disturbed Ness, and found himself gazing at the shortest, pudgiest man he had ever seen, wearing a yellow motorcycle helmet and sporting a jagged mustache. What little he could actually glimpse of Wario, however, was soon concealed behind the large blaster that the villain soon heaved, turning it in their direction.

Wario himself had been observing the recent happenings as a spectator, the original plan having been the idea that Porky would have easily turned the little boy into a trophy for Wario collect later. But now he had changed his mind upon the appearance of Ness. Porky was obviously gone now…what was there to lose?

Grinning wickedly, Wario idly activated the targeting system and peered through the scope of the blaster, easily locking onto Ness as the PSI user turned in his direction. Then, chuckling amiably to himself, Wario casually began firing.

In a spray of scarlet energy the arrows streaked outwards, making a beeline for Ness. Ness, however, was equal to them, and he ran swiftly to one side, leaping and dodging and ducking as the occasion demanded. Though his face did not show it, Ness found himself inwardly disturbed by the searing power of the arrows as they streaked past him. These things definitely weren't good.

Ness landed cleanly a few feet away from his original position utterly intact, and Wario tsked between his teeth, disgruntled. Shrugging away the minor inconvenience, he instead turned to Lucas, who was still staring after Ness in amazement, and Wario's grin returned in all its huge, pearly whiteness. The beginnings of an evil laugh gurgling up between his teeth, he charged the blaster again as the targeting system locked onto Lucas where he stood at unawares.

And then Lucas finally looked up, far too late to dodge, as the blaster fired again, a fiery black arrow streaking to claim whatever conscious being it might make contact with. Lucas could only freeze in place, eyes widening in horror, too terrified to move -

And with a shout Ness was suddenly there, tackling him aside. Lucas stumbled backwards in shock as a painful flash lit the air, and Ness's flying body was whisked into a horizontal whirl, black arrow dissolving easily into his shoulder.

Lucas stared, stricken by horror. It were as though time had deliberately slowed down to allow him to dissect every painful moment as the light engulfed Ness and then faded, leaving a short trophy with a dull golden base in its wake. The plastic thing landed on the drab sidewalk with a hollow clatter, displaying a humbly smiling boy wearing a faded red cap and a gray backpack, completely innocent…and disgustingly artificial. Lucas could only stand there and stare in utter disbelief. How could this possibly be the same selfless veteran that had saved him, a hero with such confidence and expertise? The world had been turned upside down, and everything had gone terribly wrong.

Wario, feeling satisfied, leaped down from his perch atop the pile of rubble, landing with a heavy thud next to Ness's trophy and making Lucas leap backwards. Grinning, Wario laughed, and lunged forward as though to attack. Lucas stumbled back once more as terror suddenly coursed through him, blooming in a strangling vine of panic. His breath caught in his chest and Lucas found himself turning and running, running faster than he ever had before. Thunder rumbled as though in reprove, and lightning flashed as though to hinder his cowardly path, but still he ran on, through the thick curtain of rain that began to fall. Not able to help it, Lucas glanced back over his shoulder once, catching sight of Wario as he stood, holding Ness's trophy by the head and laughing openly. Both were illuminated in another chilling flash of lightning.

Lucas looked away, feeling his heart quail. A deep sense of helplessness had rising now, and he felt more vulnerable and afraid than ever before. He was worthless, and had only been a burden to Ness…even Ness's own downfall, in the end. Lucas knew that he deserved that horrible fate, not Ness…he should have been the one to have been turned into a trophy. Ness shouldn't have ever saved him.

And with these depressed thoughts Lucas ran on aimlessly through the rain, certain of his own inevitable doom.

* * *

Red paused, looking up in relief as the fierce downpour that had persisted for several minutes began to relent its merciless driving for a short while. Wiping the last of the water droplets from the brim of his red and white cap, he glanced up briefly at the gray-clouded heavens, then lowered them again to check his surroundings once more. The bleak ruins of a city loomed up before him, portrayed in every shade of gray and slate that had probably ever been devised. It was a depressing place, Red knew that for a fact. The sooner he got out of here, the better off he'd be.

The Pokemon Trainer took a few deft steps forward, shivering off the last of the rain's damp chill, but soon stopped again, a small frown tugging the edges of his mouth. His head slowly turned as he glanced from left to right, taking in his dull surroundings. Everything seemed normal and yet…something was not right. As though he were being watched. But there was certainly a way to find out for sure.

In a casual movement that had been reiterated many times in his past life, Red raised a gloved hand to the red and white vest he wore, locating the shield-shaped white device lined in blue that he had pinned there. He deftly pressed the middle, which sank inside and then sprung back out quickly; it had been a button all along. At once a small green light atop it flashed, and several piercing beeps cut through the still air.

Red blinked as the hostile, battle-ready awareness of the things that had been pursuing him were revealed in his mind, as clear as a beacon in the night. And he knew that he had not been imagining the feeling of being followed…though of course he had never highly doubted it.

* * *

Lucas hardly noticed as the rain began to ease and then stopped altogether, too deeply wrapped up in his tumultuous thoughts to care. He had finally slowed to a plodding walk once more, listlessly wandering the empty streets of New Pork City as he had been in the beginning…before he had met Ness…

His shoulders wilted even more at the very memory. Lucas vaguely considered the volume of feeling he seemed to have, how unusual it was to be so pained by a simple occurrence - it was not natural in this world, this dimension. Perhaps it was the fact that his intuitive to fight had never been as strong as it should be, or that he had always felt himself constantly in the shadows of other, greater heroes…but it was still strange. Listening to his damp steps reverberating on the soaked blacktop, Lucas miserably wondered what it would be like to be like everyone else for a change, to be strong and confident and always eager for a fight.

And so it was not until he actually bumped into a person's elbow that he noticed another individual standing, immobile, in the middle of the road.

Lucas looked up, thoughts breaking as he gazed in surprise. He found his eyes meeting those of the tall, lean teenager that looked over his shoulder to identify him. The newcomer was wearing a red and white cap and a matching vest, beneath which the sleeves of a black T-shirt showed, and he was wearing a pair of pale jeans. The dark eyes that surveyed him seemed slightly irritated at first, and then they softened slightly in catching sight of Lucas for the first time. The stranger then turned forward, sweeping an arm across the area before them both as though in warning. And Lucas, lifting his eyes to wear the boy was gesturing, felt himself freeze inside, reveling in horrified recognition. For before them puddles of purple had collected and began to rise, melding into the unmistakable forms of Primid.

Lucas cowered backward, wanting nothing to do with the foul beings as fear coursed through him, but in an unexpected move the stranger had a hand on his shoulder. Lucas looked up in surprise, meeting the warm eyes of the boy once more, shadowed beneath the cap that hid his copper hair. The stranger cast him a confident smile, a small laugh, raising a small red and white ball to his chest with his other hand.

He turned forward once more, smile creasing into a determined frown, and he stepped forward to confront the Primid that turned their newly-formed heads in his direction. With a casual flick of his hand Red let the pokeball expand into its full size. Then, with an easy swing of his arm, he tossed it, rather like a person would toss a baseball. Except that this ball stopped in midair, splitting open and pouring a stream of white light from its contents.

Lucas looked on in astonishment as the white light materialized on the ground, forming into a small blue turtle with an amber shell and a short, coiled tail. The Squirtle crouched there at ready, waiting for Red's command, who assented by pointing forward. The Pokemon then launched itself at the enemy…in a spray of crystal water that seemed to slosh up as if from nowhere.

* * *

Navi fluttered anxiously a few feet ahead, turning back to him in an agitated flurry of blue light and pale, delicate wings. The air tinkled and swirled behind the little sky-blue ball of light as the fairy fluttered forward, inquiring and confused.

What was wrong?

With a smooth rustle that was barely audible on the forest floor Link stepped past the baffled fairy, declining to respond for once. He knew she had reason to be concerned, but there wasn't time to explain it now. He himself was just as worried, but now was certainly not the time for hesitation, either. He could not forget what he had felt just a few minutes back. A stabbing pain, a fleeting headache, a throb in the hand that held the Triforce of Courage, and then nothingness…

Link frowned at the memory. Something must have happened. They were connected by the binding of the Triforce, he knew as much from the memories of his many previous lives, and that could only mean that something must have happened to one of them. Something bad.

He was set on finding out what. And the going would not be safe without anything to defend with…

Navi drifted after him, having no choice but to follow and wonder. And the two pushed on through the quiet wood, lit only by the pale rays sunlight that shafted sparsely through the thick pine canopy over their heads. Link walked on purposely, stepping easily around and through the wood that he knew so well. He had been here before, and he knew the way. That part had been burned particularly clear in his memory…it had been here that he had first found it…the holy blade…

He had used it only in need before. And he would need it again.

* * *

Yoshi shifted slightly where he lay curled on the comfortably half-rotted old stump, relishing the gentle warmth of the single shaft of sunlight that reached down into this small clearing. The air was crisp and still, the surrounding pine trees aromatic and whispering, and everything was at peace. Yoshi was glad to leave it at that. What need was there to rush when you were warm and drowsy, when you had anticipation of a filling future battle and no other worries whatsoever? No need at all, as Yoshi saw it. He was content to have a good doze at the very least, before life should catch up to him and rush him off again, to some other frantic place and time. But not now. That was in the future, and this was the present. No need to get worked up about it.

Link happened to step into the same particular clearing, wrapped in his own thoughts as he watched Navi flutter ahead of him, trailing blue glitter. He was most acutely conscious of the warm weight against his back, as though it were being bathed in sunshine, and he knew well enough what the source was. He could feel the warm power of the Master Sword washing over him even now, as though in greeting, and he couldn't help but be glad for its presence, for its comforting mass between his shoulder blades. It had chosen him and he only to wield it in the beginning, and by now Link had an odd affection for the blade that had played such a part in his previous lives. It had always been something more than a weapon of warfare - it was the seal-breaker, the bane of evil, the giver of hope, and a little piece of the distant Goddesses in their power and glory, all melded and meshed into a double-edged shaft of metal that glowed like starlight and reared like fire when held in the heat of combat.

Link didn't pay any heed whatsoever to the little green dinosaur in red boots that was curled and dozing on a stump mere feet away, and merely trudged past, mind intent on the future and his latest resolution. Yoshi, equally as unimpressed by the dirty-blond swordsman with his pointed hat, forest-green tunic, and tinkling fairy, merely opened a bleary eye to watch him pass and then closed it again, his own mind simply intent on nothing more than a good morning's nap.

Navi had, by that time, fluttered past the barrier of pines that bordered the perimeter of the clearing and disappeared beyond, and Link stepped forward to follow her, but stopped abruptly. Suddenly the warmth at his back had grown more intense, and Link felt the incoming evil even before he lifted his head to gaze at the sky, which turned into an unpleasant shade of red at that moment. Then there was a hiss as the Halberd glided past, making the tops of pines ripple beneath it and distributing its now-renowned violet particles. They drifted from its belly and trailed from the sky like deformed snowflakes, congregating in the clearing, and Link took several paces back as Primid rose from the resulting puddles, turning to face him.

Link's surprise melted into anger, and he only beckoned to the sleepy Yoshi that had drifted up beside him as he whipped out the Master Sword, which blazed white-hot in confrontation of the beings that were so clearly their enemies.

* * *

Yoshi jogged up beside Link as the swordsman skidded to a halt at the edge of the cliff, glaring out to the desert that stretched out beyond and watching with an angry glint in his icy blue eyes as the Halberd continued its ponderous journey far ahead in the distance. Yoshi himself gazed after it in mild interest, not angry in the least, but slightly curious all the same. That ship was obviously the enemy here, and those beings it had dropped most certainly hadn't belonged to the forest they had been deposited in. They had not even been that hard to defeat, though there had been many of them. Almost more than Yoshi had been able to chew…and they had definitely had a bitter taste, to boot. Yoshi almost wrinkled his large snout at the very memory.

The green dinosaur instead glanced at Link, who was still looking out after the departing ship. The anger had faded slightly from his features, and now he looked more thoughtful instead. He caught Yoshi's eye, and both nodded in mutual agreement. Then both started off down the edge of the cliff in a swift run, in hot pursuit of this new enemy.

* * *

Far away in that very desert, with this particular part of the landscape shadowed by the looming subspace dome in the distance, two other individuals were running. Or rather, one was running and one was gliding, in hot pursuit of the Ancient Minister himself.

Marth pressed forward, knowing he was gaining on the hovering, bomb-bearing enemy. His cloak streamed behind him in the sharp, icy wind that slapped at his face, but he hardly noticed. All of his attention was instead bent on the Ancient Minister, and the deadly weapon he was dangling beneath him. They had been pursuing the mysterious opponent for quite some time now, after breaking out of the circle of Primid and other enemies, Meta Knight and himself side by side. There was no doubt now that they would be good comrades, at least for the present moment. But now there were more pressing matters on Marth's mind.

Marth raised Falchion at an angle against his side and dug his heel into the ground, bunching his strength together. In a lunging movement he leapt into the air, lashing out with his blade, which slashed through the air inches away from the catch that held the bomb against the platform the Ancient Minister hovered on. Missing, Marth returned to the earth with a frustrated puff, tumbling into the wasted momentum to keep himself from falling over and whirling away from the chase momentarily.

Meta Knight rushed forward in turn, barely skimming the ground himself. He reared up to confront the Minister himself, but the being was swifter, suddenly whirling around and firing a red laser that had been hidden on the rim of the platform. The attack struck true, catching Meta Knight on the corner of one of his wings and sending him spiraling back down. He swiftly landed, hastily sweeping back his violet wings, which melted and rippled into a purple cape instead and snuffed out the burning flame.

The Ancient Minister turned back forward, satisfied at his own success…and so it was that he did not see the two-handed broadsword that spun into the air just behind him, rising into an arc and glinting gold in some unseen shaft of sunlight. No, the Minister did not know the danger…until it was too late.

In a blue and white blur another swordsman had taken to the air in a mighty leap, cleanly grasping the hilt of the flying blade and bringing it smashing down on the catch. There was a snap of electricity as the catch was severed in a clean flash of gold, and the Ancient Minister found himself spiraling erratically into space like a deflating balloon let loose, streaming smoke.

The newcomer landed cleanly on the dry ground in a plume of dust, the subspace bomb flickering and shorting out as soon as it struck the earth beside him. Then Ike raised himself upright and gazed out after the Ancient Minister that had now righted himself and was speeding off to the beyond. The swordsman was joined by Marth and Meta Knight, and all three gazed out solemnly at the escaping enemy, as one.

Then the short peace was broken, and all three set off after the Ancient Minister and at a feverish run.

* * *

Red lifted his head and gazed around, satisfied when he noted that the urban area was now completely empty…where they stood, anyway. The battle with those strange creatures had taken them both a long ways away from their original meeting spot, but from what he could judge Red knew he was still on the right track. And there was no more time to lose.

He raised his pokeball and turned to Squirtle, smiling. The Pokemon merely sat back, acquiescent, as a red laser shot from the center of the pokeball and engulfed it, receding with the laser into its temporary shelter. Then, sighing in satisfaction, Red gazed back over his shoulder at the strange short boy that had half-heartedly joined him in the previous fray. Lucas was looking back behind them, worried about what other dangers might be lurking around them. Red smiled again, this time more to himself. The kid was a pretty good fighter, but he still had a thing or two to learn about courage. Blinking, the Pokemon Trainer shrugged off the thought. It was time he got going.

Lucas had felt the Trainer's eyes on him, and he felt even more awkward and inferior than ever for it. He had been terrified half to death throughout the whole scenario with those weird creatures, even as Red had fought confidently through his Pokemon. Suppose that the same thing that had happened to Ness would happen to this new confident stranger, too? Yet here the teen now stood, quite whole and well and genuinely unperturbed by the recent events.

He looked up as Red suddenly stepped forward, casting a wave of farewell in Lucas's general direction, and Lucas felt his stomach drop. He already taken a slight liking to the brave person, and he couldn't help but wonder what might become of him on whatever unspoken quest he was on. More worries began to weigh on Lucas's mind as well - what if there were really more of those strange beings about? Could he possibly take them on alone? Most certainly not…yet he would be a burden to any respectable hero…but…

Lucas gazed after Red in despair as the Trainer started forward. Then something in his mind clicked, and Lucas ran forward, grabbing him by the arm and feeling almost desperate.

Red stopped in surprise and turned to Lucas, feeling mildly confused. He gazed for a moment as Lucas looked at him pleadingly. Then he blinked, shrugged, and turned forward again, trekking on.

Lucas, staring after him for a moment, decided the movement was a yes and hesitantly followed. There was nothing for him here anyway, in the bleak and now monster-infested suburbs of New Pork City. But what if he made a mistake and angered Red? What if he became nothing but a worthless dead weight? What if Red was turned into a trophy?

At the thought a sudden memory was relieved - the image of Wario, laughing as he greedily eyed the pale trophy of Ness that he held in one hand. And something in Lucas's turmoil of thoughts hardened and settled down, a simple reason for following Red that Lucas decided to anchor himself to when he was in doubt.

Simply put, he would come with Red because he would never let someone with such confidence and bravery be captured like that again.

* * *

A/N: Holy crap, I wrote a lot this time. Do people always write like this after an extensive hiatus? …Eh, whatever. Can't complain, I guess.

Another thing that I've realized, however, is the number of SSE fics there actually are on this branch of fanfiction. It's left me breathless just trying to count them all. So if you're reading this one fic, out of so many other similar stories, I can only thank you endlessly. You've got a wide variety of choice out there…and you end up reading and reviewing this one. It's got me flattered. So, what I'm trying to say is…thank you, every one of you, who might be reading this end note. Your support means a lot to me.


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Do I own it? Uh, yeah, sure, if that's whatcha wanna think. Fine by me.

* * *

It was a secret base. She knew that as well as anyone. A secret base, the home of the enemy…where she certainly wouldn't be wanted. And she didn't care in the least.

At the darkened end of a metallic corridor a plate on the ceiling quivered. It twitched, rattled softly, then fell still…and was cleanly stomped out from above by a trained boot, pulling sharply back into the gaping hole that had been created. Seconds ticked past and then, cautiously, a woman slipped out, landing without a sound on the smooth floor below.

Samus Aran looked around warily, icy blue eyes piercing the darkness around her with the intensity of a hawk's. Her yellow hair, tied back, flapped ever so slightly as she cocked her head in a subtle movement, listening for any sound of approaching enemies. Hearing nothing, she then swiftly started forward shoulder-first into the gloom beyond with all stealth, blaster raised at an angle to her head and ready to fire, a fleeting blue-clad figure in the shadows.

The bounty hunter kept her guard well up as she padded softly through corridors and wide-spread rooms, all of them empty. Yet that did not stop her from prying every shadow, straining all of her senses to their maximum limit as she crept through the base. She had to find it…and she couldn't afford to waste any time. Things had been happening lately, things that required her attention and presence…and the theft of her Power Suit was only the beginning. Though that alone was enough. Any human being with common sense could have seen and feared the smoldering rage buried deep behind her eyes, to be released with tremendous force when she saw fit. And that would be very soon, when she had reclaimed what was rightfully hers and tracked down the ones responsible.

At length she came upon the first door she had seen in the entire base, to her right in another corridor. Samus paused, then approached the door, which automatically slid open, much to her surprise. She paused for a split second outside - what kind of base would have automatic doors? - but then quickly slipped inside, blaster raised in front of her, pointing it left and right as she glanced searchingly into the area, alert for enemies. Even as she stepped in the doors slid shut on their own accord, and she jerked slightly, glancing back over her shoulder. If this was a trap…

She let the thought drop, turning back forward. And she soon forgot her plight as she noticed the glowing green mechanism before her for the first time.

It stood in the center of the circular room and was the only source of light…though it illuminated everything else well enough with its sickly green glow. The thing was predominantly comprised of a single large glass tube raised on two welded legs and fed by many wires and circuits that pulsed with energy. And inside of the tube was a ball of golden light, an epicenter of electricity that momentarily blinded Samus. But then, as the glow faded, her eyes widened as they registered what they were seeing.

Inside of the glass tube was a mouse, a very large one, with yellow fur and a jagged, brown-tipped tail. It had round red spots on its cheeks, which offset the black tips on its pointed ears, and it probably would have been generally a cute creature, except that now its round face was cringed in a grimace of pain, eyes closed tight. Even as Samus watched the green glow suddenly intensified once more, and there was a hiss of electricity as the mouse was suddenly lifted off the bottom of the tube, thick streams of golden energy being leeched from its body to be fed into the machine itself. Then the humming eased and the Pikachu was released, falling limp on the bottom of the glass tube. He shifted feebly, as though struggling to move, but apparently seemed fatigued beyond even supporting himself. Instead he opened his eyes, wide round amber eyes that gazed up and around the confines of his prison.

Samus's mouth thinned, and the flickering rage behind her eyes suddenly seemed much less remote. With a determined flick of her hand she adjusted the barrel of her blaster, flicking it upwards, and from the newly formed gap there sprung a white-hot band of compacted energy, which she flicked upright with obvious expertise. Then, with a graceful loop of the whip, she stepped forward and smashed it right through the glass of the tube, sending green-tinted shards flying everywhere.

A red light suddenly flared to life on the opposite wall, and a pulsing alarm filled the air. The door behind Samus slid open, revealing a whole squad of ROBs. The first of the ROBs slid forward on its tank treads, partially into the room, and lifted its optical lenses to lock onto the two intruders that now turned to face them. Samus whirled around smoothly, blaster easily reverting back to its natural form, and Pikachu was soon beside her in a crouch, cheeks sparking threateningly despite his obvious weariness.

Then the two sprang forward into the fray in a flurry of lasers and golden electricity.

* * *

The sky was relatively cloudless, and the rolling hills surrounding the beaten path were a pleasant shade of green. The Waddle Dee trudged on down the road, quite easy to spot with its red body and cream-colored belly. Its small black eyes gazed out ahead, and it strode on, seeming to be in a hurry. It knew it was one of the last to arrive for the event, and its leader would not be happy with it. With these nervous thoughts the Waddle Dee…waddled…faster than ever.

Another particular individual stood on the same path just a few yards ahead, tall and lanky and unmistakably nervous. Luigi took a step forward as the Waddle Dee bobbed into view over a slight curve, one gloved hand raised in a karate chop, though the curly brown hair that peeked out beneath his green cap emblazoned with its L was slightly damp with the perspiration of the unsure. The image of a battle-ready veteran was further lessened by the homely look of his blue overalls, large brown shoes, and green shirt…about as harmless as the Waddle Dee that loomed closer and closer.

All too soon the Waddle Dee was right in front of him…and it paused and turned in his direction as Luigi moved to one side. The plumber brother raised his arms defensively, trying to demonstrate an image of readiness for battle…and failing miserably as every limb began trembling uncontrollably. The Waddle Dee, completely unimpressed, simply blinked and then started forward again, anxious to press on with its mission.

Luigi, still on the side of the road, sighed in clear relief and swiped a hand across his brow. Truth be told, he had been dead terrified by the Waddle Dee…but now that was thankfully over, and he could continue on his way…Luigi turned around, feeling quite satisfied about his successful encounter - and locked eyes with a second Waddle Dee that happened to have the pleasure of drifting past. He jumped violently, raising his quivering hands to defend himself and taking several steps back, bracing himself to strike…

…he did not notice the huge shadow that loomed up behind him, with his attention bent on the terrifying creature in front of him. Not until a huge hammer swung through the air, hitting a clean strike directly on the small of Luigi's back.

There was a split second of consciousness for Luigi as his breath was forcibly knocked out of him, and he could only feel surprise as he was thrusted high into the air by a tremendous force. Then there was a flash, and a trophy returned from the arc of the fall, landing base-first on the head of the star-painted hammer that had been its demise.

With a satisfied huff King Dedede swung his hammer backwards and the trophy flew again, landing upright on the ground a few feet behind him. Then the large red-robed blue penguin turned around, shouldering his huge hammer comfortably and surveying his recent prize. The previous tyrant of Dreamland strode forward, dusting the side of Luigi's plastic head and turning to the small gathering of Waddle Dees that soon assembled before him. All of them looked back as the faint sound of a motor grew louder in the distance, and there was a cunning smile on Dedede's features as he signaled to all of the Waddle Dees and leapt up out of sight, his minions following suit.

* * *

Wario hummed tunelessly to himself, huge grin never leaving his face as he adjusted the course of the hovering, rail-lined platform he rode in. It was even painted bright yellow and edged with a jagged black line to match his theme. Behind him on the same platform stood two trophies, one of a princess in the middle of a spell-branched attack, the other depicting a humble boy wearing a baseball cap and a backpack.

Wario himself didn't really mind the hideous load behind him. So what if it was against a fighter's creed - to the heck with that. He'd get a reward for these two, a great one…that was all he'd ever cared about anyhow. And he'd had a little fun doing it, too. One could say the villain was in an exceedingly good mood.

As though the very world had also decided to be part of his good humor, Wario spotted a lone object standing in the middle of the road and slowed down the platform, peering forward with interest. He coasted to a halt a few feet away from the lone trophy of Luigi and dismounted without any hesitation whatsoever - it didn't strike him as at all strange that the trophy of one of the great heroes should be sitting here on its own in the middle of nowhere. He'd heard of other odder things in his previous memories - like money falling from the sky. And though no money trailed from the heavens this time around, he was satisfied with this single miracle all the same.

Gazing right into Luigi's face, which was slightly above his own head, Wario snorted and laughed out loud. The tall bumbling fool had probably been smitten in a humiliating defeat - and that suited Wario just fine. In fact, it only made his day better. With a grin he grabbed the trophy and raised it over his head.

There was a rumble, rather like a small avalanche.

Wario, still laughing at his luck, choked down his latest chuckle and looked from left to right in surprise as Waddle Dees suddenly flooded in from every direction, pouring over the green hills and making straight for him. The little minions gathered up all around Wario, who found himself being shoved and jostled in a sea of squishy red-and-white bodies before being pulled completely under with a startled shout. Predictably, he lost his grip on Luigi's trophy in the midst of the onslaught, and the lanky plastic thing rolled over the roiling sea of Waddle Dees and eventually met the ground a few yards away. To be scooped up again by a golden-mittened hand.

King Dedede tossed Luigi's trophy into the rack with the two others, where it landed headfirst. Then he climbed on board, grasping the joystick of the platform, and steered it around, back in the direction that Wario had come. In a puff of dust the king was gone, swerving behind a cove of trees and vanishing from sight.

The score or more of Waddle Dees, as though of one mind, suddenly backed off of the flattened Wario and left him spluttering in a cloud of dust as they took off after their leader, leaving the shocked villain to flap his head and climb to his feet. With one look around he immediately realized what had happened.

The Waddle Dees didn't give any heed whatsoever as Wario hopped angrily in the middle of the road, spluttering and shouting in rage as he realized that he had been car-jacked and left without a vehicle in the middle of nowhere. They didn't care.

And no one else really did.

* * *

There was a hiss as a door slid open, admitting a blue-clad bounty hunter and a large yellow electric mouse.

It had been a large battle simply to get here, but Samus was satisfied that they wouldn't be disturbed anytime soon. Instead she stepped into the room, gun at ready, and raised her gaze to the many screens and controls that illuminated this room in a faint glow. There was even a chair in the center, to supervise it all.

Pikachu trailed in after her, still tired but relatively rejuvenated by the recent battling. He sat on his hind legs, one ear cocked to measure the soft hum of machinery and power that reverberated in the small enclosed space, but Samus took several steps forward, attention caught by something else.

For a single screen out of all of the ones in the control room had attracted her immediate interest. And a faint smile could almost be detected on her face, softened in the blue glow, as she gazed at her orange Power Suit, with its green glass visor glowing as though it had been waiting for her.

At the bottom right-hand corner of the screen was a set of coordinates pointing out the location of the area in question.

* * *

Far far away, skimming over desert, the Halberd reared, dark and threatening as ever.

But inside, illuminated in a red glow beside a circular porthole, was a box. A large cardboard box, lined in red and emblazoned with a scarlet exclamation mark as though to emphasize a point. This box twitched and shifted ever so slightly, beginning to scoot down the room in the direction of an open entrance, which lead into a hall at the other end of the room.

It is the art of the spy to remain as inconspicuous as possible…

* * *

A/N: Hmm…the last chapter was long, and this chapter is too short…am I getting unbalanced? Well, the next chapter will have plenty more action, so hang in there and…review, maybe?

And yeah, isn't it sad that in the video Luigi gets put out of action about…eh…twenty-four and a half seconds after you meet him? Gotta feel sorry for the guy… :D


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer - Copyrights? Breaking of the law? Okay, look, I don't own it, never have owned it, and don't intend to own it any time soon! I don't even own the game yet! So there! …Yeah…think I got the point across…

* * *

Kirby's whole body quivered as he snapped his head up, hearing something that Peach, for the life of her, could not fathom. She gazed ahead wearily, not too concerned with whatever problem the puffball was sensing - she was simply tired, and glad to feel solid earth beneath her feet, a heavy contrast from the slippery, damp softness of the cloudscape they had just emerged from. She sighed heavily, glancing around. They had touched ground at a completely different area, probably far away from the battle stadium, and Peach had no idea where they were. Finding the others might end up being a tad difficult…

Kirby bounced once, then suddenly took off, sprinting away through the grass as a whisper of wind blew from that direction. Peach snapped her consciousness back on the present and gazed after him in surprise, flinging out a hand in a vague attempt to call him back. But the puffball didn't even glance backwards, fully intent on whatever it was that had caught his attention. Leaving Peach to lower her arm, fiddling with the handle of her parasol and feeling mystified.

There was a large thump behind her.

Peach jumped in surprise, tilting her parasol and glancing over one shoulder…to be greeted with the fanged grin of none other than Bowser himself. Even more surprised at the appearance of her past-life nemesis, Peach turned to face him, cocking her head and feeling confused. Until her wide blue eyes fell on the charging blaster the Koopa King held in his claws. Then, at the sight of her companion's downfall, Peach's entire frame stiffened, and she grasped her parasol even tighter, brandishing it in an attempt to defend herself -

- seconds too late.

Kirby, unbeknownst to the plight that had taken hold of his partner, pounded on, hasty round form vanishing in a veil of kicked-up dust, as Peach's trophy clattered to the earth with a dull thump. Bowser grinned at his success, turning to the violet, feral incarnation of himself that lumbered up beside him. The Koopa King watched unflinchingly as his violet clone melted into the purple particles of which it had been comprised, puddling on the ground and latching onto Peach's toppled idol in a greedy, surging wave…

* * *

Mario and Pit pounded with all speed down the grassy path. They had been pursuing their enemy for quite some time now, but their determination had been reinvigorated by the sight of the Halberd soaring far away in the distance. The spectacle had occurred a few hours before, but all the same the two heroes had continued onward with all speed, unwilling to give up.

The two were completely unaware of a glowing, feral pair of wide eyes that followed their hasty tread.

* * *

Princess Peach followed their progress closely, an uncharacteristic scowl splashed across her usually carefree features and adding a weirdly vehement tint to her face. Something that could almost have been considered a growl escaped from her throat, and she hefted the large blaster she had leaned partially down on the earth, her thin arms unable to support its weight. The flaming violet aura around her intensified sharply as she carefully angled it in the direction of her prey, looking on with a single-minded malevolence as the blaster then began to charge, sure to land a direct hit on one of the unsuspecting heroes…

And she jerked backwards sharply, releasing her grip in astonishment as the blaster was suddenly cleanly slashed in two, seemingly by a blinding white flame that had arced as though from nowhere. The two pieces of the weapon seemed to float in the air, bound in time, riddled with blue webs of electricity as it began to fully register its own demise. And then, without further warning, the two halves exploded.

The now-angered replica of Peach raised an arm to shield herself from the leading edge of the blast, skidding slightly backwards but regaining her posture with an unnatural straightening of her shoulders. She turned her flaming eyes to the new individual who dared oppose her, violet atmosphere flaming into life.

Poised in mid-strike, Link quickly flicked back the Master Sword, raising his shield and planting his boots in firmly in the ground as he surveyed this individual before him, the diminutively pink-gowned woman who exuded such an air of malice. The very sight of her staring yellow eyes made him flinch slightly, inwardly, but he did not break the glare, intrigued and disgusted all at once as he gazed at this strange being.

It was then that Yoshi finally caught up to the swordsman, red boots popping, skidding to a halt beside him and gazing at Peach in astonishment. He recognized this person!…Or so he had thought. There was something distinctly different about the young woman glaring at them, and it was not just the purple veil that seemed to shroud her. No, there was something horribly wrong with this Princess Peach, something warped…

Without warning, the Peach suddenly lunged forward in attack. And Yoshi, ducking out of the way in the opposite direction of Link, found no choice but to retaliate…

* * *

Samus peered around the corner, infinitely soundless, blaster raised and poised for any assault that might befall them. With bated breath she peered out beyond, eyes drinking in the floating platform that stood in the middle of this huge chamber. The only path to it was a single ramp meant for casual walk, a ramp that could be retracted easily, the perfect trap. And yet…

Although she would not usually have taken such a dangerous risk, Samus found herself looking at this situation as a notable exception. For encased in a green glass tube, upright and silently waiting, was her Power Suit, previously stolen from her. And she knew that she would have to take it back, at all costs.

All the same, a battle on that small platform was a forbidding throught. The single floor that held her Power Suit was poised in the center of a seemingly bottomless pit - the chamber had no floor at all. One false step, one small push…Samus didn't even want to know what might happen to her trophy when she might finally hit the bottm, probably far below. Taking a deep breath that was almost too subtle to notice, she glanced at the Pikachu that stood guard at her side, peering back to watch for enemies that might approach from behind. A valiant fighter for a thing so small…she found her resolution strengthened by the Pokemon's presence.

Samus beckoned to Pikachu, who immediately saw her gesture and nodded. Then, taking one last glance to be sure the coast was clear, Samus sprinted forward, Pikachu not far behind her. Their steps echoed eerily along the metallic walls as the two flitted across the ramp…and then she was there, standing before her Power Suit.

Intense relief surged through Samus, despite the current situation. It was all she could do to refrain from touching the glass - she fingered her blaster, every muscle itching to break through the barrier that stood between her and the armor that meant so much more to her than its simple protection…a single slash of the power whip would probably do the trick…

A heavy hum filled the air.

Samus's mind instantly snapped back to the present with a violent jolt, and she whipped around, though she already knew what was happening even before she watched the ramp retract from the platform. Yet despite the seriousness of that problem alone, it was a heavy approaching footstep that truly caught her attention, and held it. For approaching her from one side of the platform was an exect replica of herself in her Power Suit. Except that this new enemy wore violet armor, and a sickly purple glow emitted from its visor. To make things worse, she turned around in time to have her eyes fall on yet a second one, a duplicate of the first, similarly colored and equally malevolent.

Samus glanced from one to the other and then planted her feet firmly on the floor, blaster at ready and glaring directly at the one to her right. Pikachu, cheeks sparking angrily, turned to the left, confronting the second one. As though on cue, the two violet Samus-replicas lifted their arms, equipped with their attached blasters.

And the battle for her Power Suit began.

* * *

Mario never really knew what made him plant his feet firmly on the path, skidding to a sudden halt. A sudden burst of instinctive alarm had driven him to do so, and the feeling didn't fade as he glanced around the tranquil fields in surprise. Nothing seemed to have changed, but the nagging impulse remained, telling him that something…evil…was here, or had previously arrived and had just brimmed to its fullest power.

Pit, who had been a few steps ahead of his, now skidded to a halt as well in glanced back in surprise, but Mario didn't notice his confused gaze. He had turned his head, eyes catching movement atop a small cliff to his right. He found his eyesight focusing on the forms of two figures, one tall and one short, both colored varying shades of green. He thought he vaguely recognized of one of them, but both had their backs turned to him, and were looking at something else. Something on the ground, lying on its side. Something with the unmistakable golden base of a trophy.

Mario's eyes widened as he found himself looking at the immobile, artificial form of Princess Peach, his companion both in this dimension and his past lives. And a gulf opened up in his chest as he watched Peach's trophy suddenly ripple and then simply fall apart, melting into a puddle of violet particles, particles that swung high into the air and disintegrated into the wind, leaving nothing behind.

For a long second Mario could only stare, aghast. What was this madness? What, who, could have produced such a horrible fate for any trophy? And then, as though in response, the taller one in green suddenly turned his head, looking over his shoulder. And Mario found his eyes locking onto a pair of icy blue ones, framed by dirty-blond hair, with the fire of a recent battle still flickering within them. Almost simultaneously, a deep, vibrant anger erupted inside of Mario, the emotion so violent and vivid that it immediately took hold of his mind, alien though it was. The emotion melted into one pulsing bar of reason - that the tall hero looking back at him had been the cause of his friend's ultimate demise.

A demise that would not go unavenged.

With an angered shout, Mario leapt into the air, his jumping prowess lifting his body to an incredible height. Enough to scale a small cliff. And at its peak, he raised his gloved fist…

* * *

Link's eyes widened as he watched the short, plump man in the red shirt and blue overalls suddenly leap into the air, scoring an astonishing amount of height. But his wonder soon melted into a tense alarm as the little man raised a gloved fist, making directly for Link…

And the swordsman jumped aside, veering sharply to the left and turning back around to face the hero he had just saved. Yoshi had moved opposite of Link and was staring as well, usually carefree expression now wrought with confusion. For the dinosaur knew _this_ person as well - knew him very well, in fact. But why was Mario attacking them like this, landing and glaring at Link with such flaming rage in his eyes? Had the joys of fighting finally intoxicated his head? Or was it something more serious, like the state of that corrupted Peach? Yoshi didn't know what to think.

In the end, however, Yoshi had no choice but to turn himself against Mario as a winged boy with a cerulean bow leapt up beside him, white toga shining in the sunlight. For though the boy looked just as confused as Yoshi himself, he was eyeing the dinosaur in the measuring way of any hero about to fight an intentional battle. And the four rushed at each other, red tongue meeting sapphire bow, flaming blade meeting curled fist.

* * *

Bowser observed the all-out brawl that unfolded on the cliff top from where he sat among the pine trees to one side. With a snort of amusement he lumbered to his feet, glancing around at the small number of minions that surrounded him. Then, poised, he waited, lifting his head.

Very far away, in a particular control room that had been intruded upon rather recently, a tall, dark silhouette now rose from the chair in the middle, surrounded by flickering plasma screens, though his eyes were trained on the single and largest one in front of him. Noting the alertness of the Koopa King that now filled the screen, a slight grin crossed his sun-browned features, and the man pointed a commanding finger at a coordinate on a smaller window that opened on the bottom corner of the screen. He watched in satisfaction as Bowser nodded, heading off in that direction, trailed by his pathetic little minions.

Ganondorf sat back in the chair, feeling quite as ease despite the mass of rather unfamiliar technology around him. Not that he was intimidated by it - he knew how to manipulate the functions of the things fairly well by now - but still, he remained rather hesitant to rely on such meddlesome equipment. None of this was nearly as powerful and unleaded as true magic, that was a fact, but all the same, it would have to do. For now, anyway.

The time was coming anyhow…soon, very soon…

* * *

Link took a deep breath, gazing down at the two idols that now lay before them. One of them depicted the man with his red hat and blue overalls, gazing ahead stolidly and raising a palm as though in the midst of an attack, and then there was the other one, of the young winged boy, grasping his strange bow in one hand and looking out beyond with hard, sightless eyes.

Trophies.

Trophies that did not melt away.

Link frowned. The presence of these two heroes deeply troubled him - by now he was half-considering reviving them. The short man in red had been angry, though it had not been the same, warped anger of the young, pink-gowned woman from before. It had been pure anger…blinding, perhaps mislead, but pure all the same. And the boy…the boy had merely been assisting his companion. He had done nothing to deserve the position he was in now. Both had put up a very good fight, a fair one…a fight worthy of two perfectly unleaded heroes. Neither corrupted in the least.

The sound of a motor suddenly met his ears, however, and Link lifted his head in surprise as a bright yellow floating platform suddenly burst from the surrounding underbrush, taking the swordsman and dinosaur by complete surprise. And looking at the platform and its passengers, Link found his eye being caught and held by the slim form of a purple-clad woman, in the middle of an attack, frozen in the plastic encasement of a trophy…

The platform sped past, then turned around, whipping up a cloud of dust behind it. The large, red-robed penguin driving it flicked something on the joystick, and the large hook arced over the end of the vehicle flexed into life, bending down and snatching up the trophies of the two recently defeated heroes from the ground.

* * *

King Dedede glanced back, admiring his smooth catch and pumping a fist in delight. He was getting quite good with this. But then he blinked…and found himself gazing at a certain pink puffball that was suddenly dangling on the end of the hook, gazing at him with a soul-stripping stare. Dedede's eyes widened in the highest creed of surprise.

Kirby?!

With astounding agility the puffball suddenly leapt into action. In seconds he had lifted his curved saber, bringing it right through the hook and severing it in half. Even as the appendage fell apart he was bouncing through the air, tapping the flying trophies of the two heroes and alighting the golden fire of life upon them.

Seconds later Mario and Pit fell to the earth, on their feet and angry, as one could imagine. Pit raised his head and maintained an archer's stance, spotting the violent yellow vehicle that turned to face them again, an angry blue penguin at its head. For his keen eyes had spotted the three trophies it was hauling as cargo.

Dedede, whose mood had apparently soured, pressed the platofrm forward. It was time he cut the chase and bailed - he had taken too much of a risk, trying to capture this lot. He had better things to do. But Pit wasn't about to let him go.

In a smooth movement the angel calmly lifted his bow, pulling back at an invisible bowstring once more, an arrow flaring to life at his fingertips. Then, never flinching, he released it, and there was a blinding flash of gold that streaked right through the passing vehicle. Pit glanced back over his shoulder as the audible thump of a busted engine met their ears. Yet still the platform raced on with its precious contents, pulled forward by its own velocity.

The five heroes glanced at each other. Apologies were silently distributed and accepted, differences placed to one side. Then all of them unanimously took off, pounding after the escaping platform.

* * *

Dedede couldn't help but grumble as he crouched at the joystick, veering left and right to avoid the numerous bushes and stones that attempted to block his way. Truth be told, he could hardly see anything through the veil of churning black smoke that streamed incessantly from the hood of his platform, covering Dedede's face. Coughing, the king squinted through the noxious fumes in time to spot a massive cliff-face looming into view over a hill. A cliff-face, with a gaping dark cave opening into some distant abyss beyond.

At that same moment the platform he was riding wheezed, banking unsteadily to one side. Before Dedede could do anything about it, the platform spluttered, coughed, and then dropped to the ground with a bone-jarring thump, landing crooked beside the cave entrance.

Scowling at his foul luck and the accuracy of that winged boy's bow, Dedede grudgingly struggled off of the platform and grabbed the three trophies that had been toppled in the back. Then, with a final angry glance over his shoulder, he plunged into the cave, leaving the wrecked platform behind. For a certain group of five to find, and follow.

* * *

An alarm blared, for the second time, throughout the base. The ROBs, raising their heads in unison, immediately swarmed for the source, a containment area of a certain piece of sophisticated equipment that would have helped to increase the strength of the Subspace Army's conquest. Little did the small robots know, however, they they were rushing straight towards their doom.

Pikachu peered over the edge of the platform as the last of the two clones vanished into the abyss, limbs flailing in obvious anger before it was swallowed by the darkness beyond. Then he turned to Samus, who didn't flinch as an alarm filled the air, a red light flashing in the chamber as well. Nor did she even turn as the ramp suddenly shot back to the platform, reconnecting with a bang that made the floor tremble. For she had her full attention on her Power Suit. And a compressed-energy whip flashed through the air.

* * *

A surge of ROBs rounded the corner leading to the chamber - and there was a massive scarlet explosion that sent pieces of metal and cord flying everywhere.

Rising solemnly from the cloud of debris came a tall, formidable warrior. A bounty hunter by profession. A hero by nature. With a small electric mouse at her side. Through the green visor of her Power Suit, Samus glanced down at the Pikachu that bounded forward, ready for a fight. So different from the same piteous creature trapped in a glass tube in a dark-lit room sometime past. For the briefest moment a flicker of warmth lighted her usually hard eyes.

But then she lifted her head once more, one hand resting on her blaster arm. Without another pause she strode forward, feeling at the peak of her power, finally at ease. She was herself again.

And now it was time for those bastards to pay the price for their crimes…

* * *

A/N: Eh, yeah, this was a kinda hasty narrative, so if things seem a little mixed up please forgive me. There are just so many parts that I'm having to cover now, and I'm having to really look them over and organize them properly.

Two more days…until Brawl is released…the anticipation is killing me…even though I need to get a Wii before I can to anything…still…:D


	13. Chapter 12

A/N: YES!! Today's the day! Brawl has been released in America!! :D …Though you're probably wondering why I'm even celebrating, not owning a Wii or anything. Not to mention the fact that about fifty percent of my previous reviewers have probably dropped out of fanfiction by now to enjoy the game for about three or four weeks. -.- So what would be the source of my happiness? I have no idea! But I'm happy anyways! :3 And I'm going to make this update an especially good one in honor of this occasion!

Disclaimer: …Do I have to say it? The fact that this line's name is 'Disclaimer' should be enough, right?

* * *

Fox McCloud landed running, feet pounding the mulch forest floor as he took off into the trees, dragging a flailing Diddy behind him. At length he slowed down, just long enough to set down the indignant struggling monkey, and then the two were off again, running with no particular intention other than to escape the danger. Then they traveled on until they had broken free of the forest.

Fox reluctantly slowed his pace into a trudging stride, looking left and right, unwilling to let down his guard despite the empty peacefulness of the area. Here the beaten path stretched onward into rolling hills, lined on one side with wild grass. To his left a large river chased its way along, its watery rustling punctuating the occasional bird cry. Diddy slowed down as well, trailing slightly behind the Arwing pilot and still obviously sulky. The monkey was now convinced that he could have taken on that Bowser, easy!

Suddenly, without warning, a black-gold flash lit the air. Fox, head snapping upright, could only turn and watch in shock as the arrow streaked through the air and caught Diddy square in the face, tossing his small, lithe body into the air. Then his trophy toppled down, rolling on its side a few feet away.

Fox gazed after the idol, then whipped around to face the Koopa King that now lumbered into view over a gentle slope on the path. Bowser stopped a few yards away, a snarling laugh resonating in the air, and then charged the blaster again. Another yellow-black arrow streaked into life.

Fox took a step back as the thing approached, then leapt to one side, avoiding the vessel of destruction by mere hairs. The momentum of his jump sent him skidding into the grass on the other side of the path, and Bowser turned instead to Diddy's trophy on the opposite side, pointing a clawed finger in that direction. Fox could only raise himself upright and watch in horror as a flood of violet particles swarmed as though from nowhere, almost exactly similar in likeliness to the particles the duplicate Bowser's trophy had melted into.

The particles reared up in a tide, engulfing Diddy's trophy. Bowser laughed again as the mass of particles then began to swell, to expand, leaving the skeleton of Diddy's trophy where it had landed. The flood of purple swelled into the air like some sort of deformed balloon, rising higher and higher until they suddenly melted and solidified into the particular shape of a monkey. A giant monkey, with feral glowing eyes, that shared a striking resemblance to Diddy himself. Except that this one was about fifteen times larger. The monster Diddy landed on the ground with an earth-shaking thump just behind his original trophy, casting Fox an angry glare as it whipped out two enormous peanut guns.

Bowser turned to the stunned Fox, who was staring in horror at the reincarnation of his previous companion. Grasping the blaster tight in both claws, he began to charge it -

And several lime-green plasma blasts sprayed down from the sky, flinging dirt into the air and causing Bowser to flinch back in surprise.

Grunting, Bowser glared upwards, and had to duck as an Arwing dived straight at him, pulling up just in time to miss him and flinging a wave of dust in the Koopa King's face. It rose into the air in a graceful loop, cockpit opening. And from it leapt a bipedal blue-feathered avian that landed cleanly on his feet, right in front of Bowser.

Falco Lombardi raised himself upright, fingers trailing to a particular device on his belt as he eyed the angry Koopa brandishing its blaster in front of him. He had clearly arrived just in time, noting the giant monkey confronting Fox just behind him. But then, who could have ignored the way Fox had simply vanished like he had during a casual cruise, without any warning whatsoever? Falco had tracked the signal on Fox's headset to this particular area, and now he grinned slightly. Fox had really gotten himself into a mix this time. And now it would have to be up to him to get the captain of the StarFox team out of it. Again. But then, that was really just another day's work.

A trilling beep resounded, moments before Falco suddenly whipped forward, leaving images of himself behind to flicker and vanish into the air. Bowser could only stare in astonishment as Falco popped up in front of him a second later, kicking the Koopa King's blaster high into the air. Rolling into a backflip at the same speed of the blaster that rose higher and higher, Falco then faced forward, whipping out two blasters of his own and firing rapidly in midair. The trophy blaster, stricken repeatedly, predictably exploded in a cloud of scarlet as Falco then landed gracefully back where he had started, watching in satisfaction as Bowser stumbled backwards in the force of the explosion.

Bowser glared at Falco angrily, a snarl rising, then snorted and grudgingly took a giant leap backwards, into a cove of trees that had him completely from view. Falco looked on as the Koopa then reappeared, flying off into the sky in his Clown Car. (A/N: I think that's what it's called. Please correct me if I'm wrong.) Blinking, the second Arwing pilot turned back to the fray unfolding behind him. The oversized turtle could wait. For the giant monkey behind him, as Falco found out upon turning around to face it, had gotten larger, much larger, with a single wave of particles. Rather like a full-sized Godzilla.

Fox dashed forward, stopping beside Diddy's trophy and tapping its base, which flared into life, relieving Diddy of his paralysis. The little monkey sat up, looking dazed, and his eyes widened in horror as he spotted the giant replica of himself stomping forward to squash all of them.

* * *

Lucas couldn't stop gazing around, unable to absorb the breathtaking scenery around them.

The wind whispered and sighed through the crags and crevassis of the cliff he and Red stood upon, looking out into the lands beyond. Spread out before them in a vast enormity was the world they inhabited, the dark shadows of mountains looming in the far distant horizon against the clear skies, while closer to home the land was splashed in variations and mixtures of ruddy brown and green. Rolling and hilly, the landscape undulated gently under their eyesight, tapering out to a dusty fir-green splash of pine forest to their right, while the beginning edges of a desert spread out to their left. But immediately in front of them, towering high into the heavens and crowned with a halo of whispy cloud, was a very tall, very thin mountain, seemingly pounded into form out of a slab of enormous rock.

Lucas could not remember having felt so free, so alive. This place was so different from the gray abandoned city he had lurked in almost all his life that it were as though he had stepped into an utterly different world. But he knew all the same that he had simply missed out, had been too afraid to venture out before, and now the true perspective of this dimension had come to him at last, greeting him with open arms. And he liked it.

Lucas glanced sideways at Red, who had his arms folded and was gazing critically at the mountain before them, as though he were already scaling the path to its thin, pointed peak far above. They had been traveling for a while now, trekking for most of the day, out of the drab slate clutches of New Pork and into the true wild. Lucas had learned much about Red's intentions during this time. Things had been happening everywhere, very bad things, occurrences that had harnessed the attention and alarm of every respectable hero in the realm. Including Red. For according to him, a strange force was rising, a group of beings intent on something other than battles. They had targeted the famed battle stadium first, reducing it to a floating globe of violet dubbed 'Subspace' that was even now steadily expanding, absorbing the land below as well. Soon other similar attacks had broken out, and Subspace domes were now dotting the realm, eating everything they could touch.

Red, as alarmed as anyone, had taken on the notion that he would be needed to assist in a rally against the Subspace bombers, as well as the fact that he would have to increase his strength somewhat if he ever had any hope of being of some help. The Trainer had set off in a journey in search of two more Pokemon to supply his battling arsen. Already knowing where both of them would be, he had started off immediately, consequently passing through New Pork City on his way to his destination.

Lucas's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a heaving beating that filled the air behind them. Lucas turned just as a loud roar filled the air, and he watched in alarm and awe as a huge, dragon-like creature with large blue wings and orange skin sailed over their heads, diving down to the foot of the mountain far ahead. Lucas watched Red as he looked down, studying two cards he held in his hand, each holding the image of a Charizard and an Ivysaur. With an affirming nod, Red raised his head, gazing after the Charizard soaring off in the distance. And Lucas knew that they had found their first target.

* * *

King Dedede folded his arms smugly, surveying the three trophies before him. He had always known this job had appealed to him, and it had been fun while it had lasted…but now…

Dedede frowned. He knew treachery when he smelled it, and such was definitely brewing even as he stood here. This job, though enjoyable, had become dangerous…and he had never really liked the nature of those Subspace bombs in the first place. Evil was evil, and evil was brewing as surely as the treachery he knew so well. He didn't like it, and now the king of Dreamland examined the three trophies before him carefully.

The man in green was questionable, but the woman and the boy seemed like very capable fighters despite. These three would be perfect. And what kind of king would he have been if he had never reverted to a backup plan?

Now smiling widely, Dedede reached up into one of his sleeves and withdrew two small, round badges, a scowling impression of his face stamped into the golden metal of each. With a flourish he attached them to each trophy - the green man's nose, the boy's chest, and the woman's -

Dedede stopped, blinking owlishly at his empty gold mitten. Where had the third badge gone…? Baffled, he glanced left and right, then caught another flicker of gold in the surrounding torchlight of the small temple he had taken refuge in, a flicker winking on his own patterned vest. Dedede looked down at his chest and sighed, disgruntled, when he spotted the third badge, accidentally pinned to his own clothing. Plucking it off, he attached it to the woman's bared forearm instead and stood back, surveying his work. Until a thick rumbling filled the air.

Dedede blinked, jumping and looking up as bits and pieces of the ceiling above his head began to fall in small bursts and showers. Even as he turned his gaze skyward shafts of light poked through the ceiling as more and more debris began to topple, revealing an iron-gray sky beyond. At that same moment a particularly large slab broke off, landing directly on the crown of Dedede's head. The impact was quick, the effect instant. The large penguin blinked, eyes crossing, holding his head as the last of his consciousness ebbed completely and he flopped over on his back. But the rumbling continued, showering the four inhabitants of the temple in an increasing amount of fallen stone, until all of them were almost completely buried.

* * *

Bowser loomed over the edge of the gaping hole he had produced in the ceiling, then jumped off, followed by several of his minions. The journey here had been slow in his Clown Car, but it had been quick enough. Landing on the remains of the red carpeted floor with a large thump, the Koopa King raised himself upright, surveying the ruins within. And so it was that he spotted the grayed back of a head, the head of a brunette hero, lying facedown and barely protruding from the pile of stone in the room.

* * *

Link, Mario, Pit, Yoshi, and Kirby peered into the temple that lay beyond the thick iron doors before them, surprised to find the wreckage and destruction that resulted beyond.

They had been stolidly pursuing Dedede through the cave he had fled through, traveling through the entire mountain itself and arising from an opening at the other end, which had led to a sheer cliff that revealed a distant gray ocean beyond. The cliff had also led to a forbidding stronghold of some sort, the entrance at which they now stood.

Pushing deeper into the temple, past the wrecked remains of the first room, they were greeted with nothing but silence. The entire stronghold had been abandoned, and now sat empty, every room and stairway heavy with a darkness of many years of silence. Link and Yoshi had taken the lead, Mario and Pit not far behind, and Kirby trailed last, peering into the dark silence beyond and wondering where this path would lead them.

* * *

Bowser lumbered forward, Zelda's trophy in one hand, and he stopped at the end of the cliff he had been striding along, peering over the edge at the ocean beyond. Looking up, he noticed a red tint in the clouded sky to his right, and a grin crossed his features - his getaway was coming, as well as the prize he would inevitably have for obtaining the second princess. He might even be granted a new blaster…

The slightest tap of a footstep was the only warning he had, and Bowser whipped around, glaring in fury as Link leaped forward, blade swinging down into a stab. At the last moment Bowser raised Zelda's trophy as a shield, and Link was forced to revert his path, stopping short a few feet away. The swordsman raised himself upright, glaring angrily at Bowser, and Pit came up beside him, bow at ready.

Before Bowser could react he had fired, and a streak of pure gold lanced through the air. The Koopa King had to swerve sideways, to the very edge of the cliff, arms flailing, and there was another smaller flash of gold as something tiny and round flew from Zelda's arm, falling to the ground unnoticed. Bowser teetered at the edge of the cliff, arms outspread, casting the five that now gathered before him a final glare of pure hatred before he simply fell off. Taking Zelda's trophy with him…

…And rising back into the air inside the cup-like embrace of his Clown Car, snorting with laughter. The five watched as the white thing swung away, making a beeline for the Halberd, which had just arisen from the scarlet fog that had taken shape in the sky. Link strode forward, gazing after the steadily shrinking form of the Car with obvious dismay, while paying the sight of the Halberd a second glare of recognition, shared by Yoshi as the dinosaur came up beside him. Mario and Pit came forward as well, the sight of the Halberd piquing equal interest.

And Kirby, forgotten for the briefest moment, was the only one of the five who wasn't gazing at the Halberd. His attention was bent on something else…a round golden badge embellished with a face that looked vaguely familiar to the puffball. Kirby cocked his head, pulling backwards and then leaning in closer as he viewed the little thing from all directions where it lay on the ground. Fascinated, Kirby scooped it up in one stubby arm, feeling slightly hungry…

* * *

The Ancient Minister looked on gravely as the two ROBs came forward, latching onto each side of the new Subspace bomb and pulling it apart, where the loud beeping of its timer began.

The cliff on which the Minister now hovered was empty, apart from the looming stronghold they had activated the bomb in front of. Now the green-clad individual, situated on his floating platform, drifted slowly backward, feeling almost reluctant as soulful yellow eyes gazed at the two brave ROBs that stood on each end of the bomb, patiently waiting. It was with even greater hesitance that the Minister finally turned away, vanishing into the thick mist that wafted off of the gray ocean in the distance. And the two ROBs, turning away from the vanishing silhouette of their leader, now looked at each other…and nodded.

There was a blinding flash as the Subspace dome was whipped into being, swiftly devouring all in its path as it expanded along the cliff. Uncaring of the two small sparks of life that it had just taken.

* * *

Lucas trailed slightly behind Red as they both strode on, down the cobbled path before them. They had left the cliff far behind them, and were now at the foot of the mountain, though they had encountered many enemies on the way, the same kinds that had not belonged. The thought of them still made Lucas's skin crawl, but he pushed away such thoughts, lifting his head to take in these new surroundings. Apparently this had been a popular roadway at one time, for crumbled pillars lined each side, and the stones beneath their feet had been fitted together with care, though most of them were now dislodged and scattered every which way.

At length Red stopped, and Lucas peered ahead. They had finally reached the very foot of the mountain, and before them stood a yawning entrance, framed with delicate stonework, most of which had crumbled with time. However, before either of them could even take a step forward, there was a gurgling laugh.

Lucas's head jerked up - he would never have been able to forget that laugh. And he took a step back as Wario suddenly leapt down from a small outcropping on the side of the mountain, hitting the path and gazing at the two of them with greedy eyes. Lucas didn't notice that he no longer held a blaster - he hardly noticed anything. For a memory was replaying in his mind, the memory of this same man cackling cruelly as he held up the trophy of Ness like a prize…

One of Lucas's hands snapped into a fist. And he glared angrily at Wario head-on, igniting a flame of PSI energy in the palm of his other hand. Red stepped forward as well, raising his single pokeball, which expanded in his palm. Wario, grinning, launched himself forward.

The two parted, each one on other side of the path, and Wario's lunge missed completely, sending the little fat man sprawling. Lucas was the first to take advantage of his position, casting a PK Freeze in that direction. Wario leaped to his feet, ducking to avoid the missile of crystalline energy, which crackled over his head and struck a pillar instead. However, Wario was too late to notice the incoming tide of water that suddenly washed up behind him, and the villain spluttered as he was engulfed in the wave, which was crested by a grinning Squirtle.

Upon being flattened by water, however, Wario began to make a comeback. He leapt to his feet with a vengeance before whipping around…and opening his mouth wide, sinking his teeth into Squirtle's side.

Lucas looked on in horror as Wario made a face, spat out the Pokemon, and then rushed forward, dealing a heavy punch on the poor turtle, who was sent toppling backwards. Red came forward with an outraged shout, but Lucas beat him to it, leaping in front of the Pokemon and landing a PK Thunder right in Wario's face. The man yelped, bouncing backwards, and Red guided Squirtle into a water-slide energized tackle, receding into its shell and whirling under Wario's feet. Even as the villain was falling over, Lucas drew back his arm and launched a second PK Freeze. Which also made a direct hit.

With a tinkle of ice Wario was immediately frozen solid amid a fountain of previously sloshing water. Squirtle rolled back to Lucas's side with a sharp command on Red's part, and the Pokemon Trainer caught his partner's eye and grinned. Lucas returned it.

Then, both facing Wario, Lucas launched his strongest PK Flash, while Squirtle tossed up another waterfall. Both striking the petrified Wario simultaneously.

Lucas winced as a blinding flash lit the air, and looked on as Wario's trophy toppled in the villain's place, thumping on its side. The sure sign of defeat. Red came forward, grinning, and raised his pokeball, relieving his Squirtle. Then he turned to Lucas, and both celebrated the victory with a high five.

Lucas, smiling, glanced at the fallen trophy of his previous enemy - and his happiness instantly disintegrated as the memory of Ness suddenly came back. He gazed around, feeling anxious, but there was nothing, no one else. Not a single other trophy in sight. Just Wario, lying on the path, and the towering pillars that surrounded them, one of them encased in ice.

Lucas sighed, shoulders wilting. Where was Ness now? Was there any hope left of finding him?

Red's strong hand on his shoulder bright him back to the present, and Lucas glanced at his companion gratefully. Then the two both turned at once, to the entrance into the mountain, where the Pokemon that Red was seeking now lurked. Waiting for them.

* * *

Fox, Falco, and Diddy all watched as the giant Diddy's trophy finally toppled to the earth, vanishing in a spray of violet particles. There was a moment of silence, and then Falco nodded, turning away and glancing at the sky as he tapped a signal into his headset. He turned, beckoning to Fox and starting back the way the two heroes had gone before.

Diddy, still gazing in a sort of petrified revulsion at the remains of his clone, suddenly snapped back to normal, whipping around in time to watch as Falco began to step away. With an angry screech the monkey came forward, grabbing Flaco by the back of the shirt and hauling him back to their original standing spot.

Feeling resigned, Falco turned to the energetic monkey and gazed on morosely as Diddy flapped and hooted, gesticulating to the expanse of land beyond. He himself was already feeling impatient and quite back to normal, thoughts returning to Donkey Kong and his absence. Something had happened to his uncle - that was the only logical explanation, in Diddy's opinion. And his absence must have had something to do with that dratted Koopa King, who had taken off in the opposite direction of where Falco was intending to go. With Fox _and _Falco on his side the search would almost certainly come to an end even more quickly.

But Falco shook his head and turned away, starting for the jungle once again. Diddy remained just as persistent, actually dragging him back and gesticulating even more. And when Falco made to refuse again, the monkey uniformly grasped the pilot by the collar of his shirt and dragged Falco with him, marching into the expanse of valley beyond.

Fox followed, shaking his head and shrugging at Falco's disgruntled expression, though a slight smile lit his own features. The sight was funny when he was watching it from that perspective, and hopefully it would stay that way.

* * *

Ganondorf watched in satisfaction as the gray of the cliffs was momentarily blocked by a slab of static. When that cleared, a violet, crackling expanse of Subspace was now revealed, signifying the Ancient Minister's success in that area. He smiled.

The screen flickered at that moment, and his smile was wiped from his face as the image was suddenly replaced with that of a large white-gloved hand, floating solitary amid an ocean of purple. The hand curled into a brief fist, then pointed directly as Ganondorf, who bowed his head in respect.

He knew that the hand could not see his eyes, however, nor his intentions, thoughts that included the end of Master Hand's reign, as well as the beginning of his own…

* * *

A/N: Eh, I don't exactly consider myself the best with battle scenes, so…anyways…once again…BRAWL IS OUT!! And if you're still reading this fic despite, a review will be greatly appreciated!


	14. Chapter 13

A/N: Well…yeah. Here I am. Missed me? I can only imagine, I suppose…anyways, it's nice to be back. I'm officially over this darned flu! :D Well, for the most part - I'm still coughing, my nose feels like a broken tap, and I can't taste anything worth the crap…but let's not worry about that! No, there shall be no more rambling! There shall instead be more chapters, more updates, more of the Subspace Emissary! Hahahaha! :)

Eh, all right, going kinda over the top here…let's calm down. Okay. Here you go.

Disclaimer: If I really did own it, you'd think I'd have a Wii by now...

* * *

He loved to run.

Just to feel the wind rushing through his spines, slapping his face. To feel the thump of firm, flat ground beneath his shoes. To revel in the rhythm of the chase, the expanding of the lungs, the movement of his legs. The excitement, the exertion…it was what he lived for. What he had been _made _for. To run, on and on, while the world passed in a green blur, while the ground rolled away beneath him, nothing more than support for his feet…

Sonic the Hedgehog blinked, then locked his legs suddenly. His heels dug deep into the damp jungle soil as he skidded to a halt, coming within feet of a steep cliff. The blue hedgehog swayed a bit at the edge, then managed to right himself, a grin spreading across his features. That in itself had been relatively fun, and even now he almost wished he hadn't stopped. It would have been a blast to run right off this cliff, to see how far he could go before he started falling…perhaps a few hundred yards, at the least…

Sonic took a deep breath, not at all weary after his forty-five-mile run around the entire border of Angel Island. It was a daily routine, really, quite easy for him. More of a leisure thing than an exercise. Peering at the unclouded sky over his head, he gauged that it was around midday at most, maybe two or three hours after he had started off. He'd been sluggish today.

Lifting his thoughts from his morning exercise, Sonic instead turned his gaze to the land below the cliff. The same tall trees and rolling hills of Angel Island met his imperious glare, about as normal as ever…except…

Sonic blinked again, unsure of what he was looking at. He leaned forward slightly, half his body surpassing the edge of the cliff. With one white-gloved hand he shaded his eyes, squinting…but there was no doubt about it. There, situated in the middle of a few of those old ruins, was a building. Short and square, with white metallic walls that glinted in the sunlight. A building that most certainly not been there before.

If he hadn't known better, Sonic could have almost called it a secret base, referring to…well…the very air of secrecy that surrounded it. Whoever had set it up had obviously been trying to keep it hidden from the casual eye, structuring it with the same basic frame as the ruins around it, while taking advantage of the lush foliage to hide it from passerby. Yet the same creator obviously hadn't counted on the cliff that rose behind it, a cliff that could have been easily scaled by a hero, a cliff to look out at the lands beyond…

Sonic's grin widened. Yes, it had to be something special. Metallic white buildings just did not pop out of the earth, even in this realm, with all its strangeness and possibilities. Its very presence reminded him of someone in his previous lives, a squat man by the name of Dr. Eggman, who reveled in the making of this very sort thing. But Sonic had not seen Eggman for a very long time now…though this might be of his doing all the same…

Such an opportunity couldn't be passed up. It had been a long while since there had been any excitement on this island, anyway…it was a rather remote area, floating in the sky all the time. Suitable competition, the presence of visiting heroes, had always been few and far between. Sonic had already made up his mind.

Smile widening more with each passing second, the blue hedgehog took several steps back, and then sped forward, a wind gusting moments after he had vanished with a blue streak. One could stand there and watch as the same streak flung out over the edge of the cliff, shooting through the air like a rocket, before finally lowering itself to the ground some thousand feet below. With a crash of foliage Sonic then vanished, a blur speeding to the object of his interest.

It was all the wave of violet particles behind him could do to keep up.

* * *

Samus Aran couldn't stop glancing everywhere, on both sides and over her shoulders. Constant unease nagged at her mind, driving her to grasp her arm cannon tightly in one hand, held at ready, while her every step was cautious and fleeting. There was no doubt to anyone that she didn't like this. Not one little bit.

She was in her Power Suit now, yes. She couldn't be glad enough about that. She was in a position of power now, fully ready to take on whatever they might meet. Yet the way the ROBs had fallen back so easily…the sight had been unnerving. As though they knew the two heroes were walking to their downfall…the door at the very end of this corridor.

But that same door was the exit. The way out of this wretched base. The portal that would allow them to join forces with other heroes, offering up their strength for the common whole. To vanquish the enemy. Surely the ROBs did not intend for them to leave so easily? And that only left one other reason…that someone was waiting for them beyond that door. Someone with obvious power, for the ROBs to trust such an individual so wholly. Someone that would undoubtedly be a challenge to defeat. Samus only wondered who it might be. Perhaps the one in charge of this entire franchise?

Well, if that was the case, she had a score to settle with him. Something she had intended all along anyhow.

The two were approaching ever nearer now, freedom just out of their reach. Samus's thoughts returned, yet again, to the electric mouse that padded swiftly beside her, jagged tail raised, ears perked and alert for any sound of ambush. They had already become close companions in this short span of time…but how would something so small hold up against the danger they were about to face? Pikachu seemed such a harmless creature. But then again, to underestimate him would be a mistake, before and now.

Samus lifted her head, peering intently into the room beyond as the door slid open with a hiss, echoing along the metallic walls. Their footsteps resounded with equal bounce as the two stepped into a dark chamber with a vaulted ceiling that rose into a shadowed dome far over their heads, lit with small blue lights. The floor stretched out before them, utterly empty, and Samus trained her eyes on another door, far across from them, wide open and streaming with sunlight. The exit.

For once Samus didn't check her surroundings one more time for any sign of danger. She always regretted it later on, the foolishness. No, she started forward instead, walking on, until she had stepped into the center of the chamber -

And had jerked her head up to track the movement above, far too late.

Pikachu leapt backwards as a huge violet blur flashed in front of him, violently slashing the air with cutting-edge wings as it reared back up in a circle, higher and higher, Samus grasped in one of its taloned claws. Flailing the bounty hunter as though she were a rag doll, Ridley opened his jaws, an ear-splitting roar escaping his muscled throat as he rose steadily higher, wings beating, feral yellow eyes flashing wildly. Already the monster felt a surge of delight, with his most detested of enemies here, in his very claws, helpless. Free for him to do whatever he chose.

Ridley wove a loop far above, nearing the ceiling, and poised himself at the wall, pulling back a skeletal arm. In a movement of pure spite he thrust it forward, mashing Samus's form against the wall and pressing down as hard as he wished without killing her immediately. Blue webs of electricity danced across her Power Suit as it creaked under the pressure, and Samus struggled to breath as the lens of her helmet flickered, static popping wildly.

Fully enjoying himself, Ridley leaned over to the right and began his descent, dragging Samus all over the wall as he went. Golden sparks flew through the air in the wake of her Power Suit, and Samus gritted her teeth as her neck was bumped wildly against the mechanical ridges of the wall.

Ridley…of all the people she had expected, it just had to be _Ridley_…

The said alien roared again, more full of pleasure than he had been in quite some time.

Perhaps Samus's torment might have went on for some time, if not for the electric mouse watching the scene from where he stood on the floor far below, aghast. How dare this thing do this to his comrade, his savior, ignoring him all the while? Pikachu's expression darkened dramatically, and he leapt into the air, cheeks sparking angrily.

As though drawn by a magnet, a large cloudburst suddenly formed over Ridley's head. The only warning the monster received was a rumble of thunder. He paused in midair for a moment, tilting his head up in surprise - and there was a hiss of furious thunder as a huge bolt of lightning cracked down on his head.

Needless to say, an electric-type attack is quite super effective against flying types. As Ridley learned the very hard away, burning energy streaking through his wings and his thin, skeletal body. A single shriek escaped his jaws, and he had lost his grip on the bounty hunter and was falling back down to the floor.

Samus reached ground first, still conscious and managing to land on her feet besides Pikachu, who had just recovered from his jump. Taking deep breaths of blessed air, she clutched her chest and simply knelt there for a moment, electricity still jumping between the metallic sinews of her Power Suit. Momentarily helpless, she could only gaze in gratitude at Pikachu as the electric mouse then whipped around, cheeks sparking defensively as Ridley hit the floor mere feet away. The little Pokemon didn't give way an inch of ground, even as the leader of the space pirates lurched back on his feet, wings flaring, an enraged shriek rising from its fanged jaws.

* * *

It took quite a while for Fox to get Diddy to unhand Falco, but the energetic monkey finally had, claiming the activity to have become boring, though Fox knew the little primate had simply gotten tired of hauling the avian around. Now the two pilots trailed slightly behind the monkey as the pressed on further along the river. Diddy didn't seem to have any idea where he was going, but Fox didn't really mind that too much - they were approaching the nearest cliff, according to the radar on his lens, which was good - Falco had called up a little backup for them, and it awaited them there.

Diddy Kong pounded on along the edge of the river, feeling agitated and anxious all at once. The memory of his giant self still scared him, though he would never have admitted it. No, now he missed Donkey Kong more than ever before. Surely the greater ape knew how to answer to these weird things that were happening to the jungle? His uncle would be able to fix this…if only Diddy could find him!

A low humming sound caught his ears, and the monkey stopped, lifting his head in interest. Fox paused beside him as well, ears twitching as the sound reached him as well. All at once both turned to gaze upriver, from where the racket was coming.

Diddy Kong's eyes widened as the platform loomed into view. It hovered over the water's surface, powered by a row of violet-flamed propellers on its rear, and it was huge, complete with purple paint and railings. Yet that was not what caught the monkey's attention - no, his eyes were only for the immense trophy seated at its head, a trophy chained to the platform by its arms.

The trophy of Donkey Kong.

With an enraged shriek Diddy was at the water's edge, nearly diving into the frothing river's depths, but was stopped by a quick grab on his collar by Falco. The avian then dragged the writhing monkey further downriver behind Fox, feeling almost vengeful. About time that animal got a little of his own medicine. Though the thought of Diddy drowning in the depths of the river was pleasant too - except that Fox would never have forgiven him.

Fox, uncaring to the revenge occurring behind him, was too busy following the platform to notice. Jogging beside the river, he cast the trophy upon it a sympathetic eye - whoever had done this to the ape had been merciless about it. The sooner that trophy was restored, the better. The only catch was that the water was too deep and too violent to scale for the present moment - all they could do was follow.

At length the platform approached the edge of the cliff ahead, which elicited a tumbling waterfall. Here the water grew very shallow, and Falco reluctantly released Diddy as Fox plunged headfirst into the waters, the two heroes wading behind him. However, the platform suddenly picked up speed, violet flames lengthening, and before any of them could stop it the platform suddenly put out a burst of speed - enough to send it flying over the edge of the cliff in a spray of water. Fox padded to the edge of the waterfall and gazed on, frowning, as the platform soared away farther and farther - making a beeline for an island strangely floating in midair in the distance. Diddy splashed up beside him, spitting mad, yelling and flailing his curved tail and arms as he ranted at the vanishing platform. And Falco came up last, seemingly busy twiddling with the controls on his headset.

Upon Fox's questioning gaze, Falco grinned, yellow beak slanting, and tilted his head to the left.

Even Diddy stopped his tantrum, turning to gaze in wonder as an immense ship suddenly rose into view, colored gray, with an elegantly stretched-out neck and huge engines, an emblem emblazoned on its side. Soaring forward to meet them.

The Great Fox.

Fox couldn't stop smiling as the mother ship approached. Finally, he could settle a certain score between himself and another ship…about time, too…

* * *

Lucas took a step back as Squirtle swept forward in a flurry of water, the shadows of the torches around them dancing on the Pokemon's amber shell and tinting the waterfall it climbed a trembling red. The Ivysaur that they now confronted recoiled, too late - stricken fully by the blow of the waterfall, it toppled backwards, leaves fluttering. The Ivysaur had truly been one of the oddest creatures Lucas had ever seen, with mottled green skin and four stumpy legs, as well as a large head and wide, red eyes. The oddities had simply continued from there, revolving around the budding pink blossom it carried on its back. This blossom had done a good deal of damage in its own part, shooting spores and vines and seeds the size of Lucas's own hands.

Yet now it seemed to have reached the end of its stamina. The Ivysaur teetered for a moment where it stood, dazed from the latest blow, and then there was a flash as it toppled over on one side, melding into a trophy in a single sweep of light. There it sat on its base, surrounded by the flickering torches in the middle of the darkened corridor.

Lucas's thoughts strayed to where they were as Red stepped forward, reaching for another ball at his waist and shooting a red beam at the Ivysaur trophy, which melted smoothly into the device. They were well inside of the mountain now, and very close to their destination, as Red had indicated. With a single glance exchanged between them, the two soon pressed on.

There was but one more Pokemon to go…

* * *

The monstrosity comprised of metal and gears was followed by three pairs of intent eyes as it sped across the vast expanse of desert, whipping up a cloud of dust in its wake. The air was forced to part like a curtain to let it pass, the thing was moving so swiftly. Its two horns glinted in the harsh sunlight as it sped on, floating several inches above the ground as it went.

Ike grasped his own blade a little tighter, sharp eyes following the thing's every movement. The wind whispered around them, dry and harsh, rippling the folds of their capes as it passed. Ike narrowed his eyes - that thing certainly wasn't normal. The chances were high that it was probably an enemy. One to be put to a stop. With a decisive flick of his blade Ike stepped forward and jumped off of the precipice they had been keeping sentinel upon, ignoring or not seeing Marth's outstretched arm as the second swordsman gestured in protest.

Drawing back and taking a breath, Marth glanced at Meta Knight, who blinked and then almost shrugged, if a being of his round frame could do such a thing. With the strange movement the Star Warrior spread his wings out of his violet cloak and jumped off as well, however, leaving Marth standing there. The last of the three gazed down at the others waiting for him and sighed inwardly, scratching his head. What a reckless group he had become part of.

And with that thought, he jumped off of the precipice as well. For if he was going to be part of a reckless group…he might as well start now.

* * *

Marth had to resist panting too hard as they finally came to a halt before the machine.

They had been pulled into quite a chase pursuing it, attacked by numerous Primid and others as they had traveled onward. Yet finally it had apparently taken notice of them. Now it loomed up ahead, sitting in a slight pit of sand that it had skidded into as it had pulled into a curving halt. The machine was the ugliest thing Marth had ever seen, in his opinion, bulky and jagged and about as cruel-looking as a machine could get. And it most certainly didn't belong here. No, not at all.

The three swordsmen hardly noticed that they had finally reached the edges of the desert in their hot pursuit of the enemy. Indeed, a tall mountain haloed by a ring of misty white cloud loomed to their left, its edges petering off to the lush greenery of the fields and trees that beckoned beyond the desert. To their right the greenery deepened, expanding into the pine forest beyond, and in the horizon one could see the silhouettes of mountains, shrouded in violet.

Marth took a step back with the others, Falchion grasped tightly in his sweaty palms as the machine stirred. It visibly began to rock, trembling and humming as though it were trying to suppress a wave of energy that had come over it. Then, without warning, a plume of dust rose into the air around it as it rose once more, hovering…and began to transform.

The three looked on in surprise as the machine began to change dramatically, from a vehicle into a standing robot. Arms burst from its sides and straightened, projectors folded back to reveal short, stumpy legs, and it slowly rose upright, cab folding several times to reveal a round, puggish face with no mouth, but a jutting jaw and pair of eyes that flashed in the sunlight. The horns that had previously been on its hull now protruded from this head, still glinting. And with a creak of metal and oiled gears, the robot turned to the three small beings that dared to confront it.

Marth, Meta Knight, and Ike plied their blades, as three.

* * *

Samus tweaked a gear on her arm cannon in satisfaction as Ridley's trophy fell to the floor with an audible thud that resonated through the chamber. Then she turned to Pikachu, a wide smile on her face despite the fact that it was hidden by her helmet. A pity, as well - a smile from Samus Aran was about as rare as a good-natured laugh from a demented Ridley. But Pikachu caught the basic impression in the bounty-hunter's eyes, barely visible behind her emerald visor.

The two of them then turned to the entrance and made their way towards it in high spirits. Samus, reading the stats on her visor, was comfortable knowing that her Power Suit hadn't sustained too much damage from Ridley's attacks - there weren't even any scrape marks to show any damage had been done at all. A full status scan in her ship would have been mandatory, of course, considering that the fiends that had stolen it in the first place might have done any number of things to it, but she was nowhere near her aircraft right now. Samus's primary worry was simply getting out of this blasted place.

At length the two finally stepped out, into bright midday sunshine. Thick greenery met their eyes, and Samus tilted her head, taking in these new surroundings. They had stepped outside, most certainly, and seemed to be in the middle of a bunch of ruins, crumbled stone bleached by years of rain and shine. In fact, if not for the pair of ROBs rolling away in the opposite direction with a Subspace bomb between them, the two would have never spotted the second consecutive building that led deep into the ground itself.

Samus blinked, thinking for a moment. They could get off of this floating island and seek the aid of other heroes, certainly - but was there time? She didn't think so. No, the smartest thing to do would be to infiltrate the secret base of the enemy now, while they were still here and at relative unawares - considering the fact that no alarms were blaring through the compound, Samus assumed that the ROBs thought she and Pikachu had been taken care of. Which made the perfect opening for a surprise attack.

She glanced at Pikachu, who gazed back with solemn amber eyes, and Samus knew the electric mouse would follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked. A slight smile fluttering across her features briefly, Samus turned back forward and strode on towards the second half of the base, Pikachu right beside her.

* * *

Sonic laughed slightly, lightly punching the head of the ROB that sat struggling on its side in front of him, tank treads churning, arms waving wildly. The little dude had been easy to knock over - the lightest tap would have done the trick, but Sonic had shoved for good measure. The mechanical guy hadn't seen it coming.

Now the ROB could hardly see anything at all as it head spun a circle on its neck in the impact of the punch, its optical receptors flashing in confusion. Sonic chuckled, then left it where it was, deciding to let the robot live another day. It hadn't exactly caused the hedgehog any harm in particular, and it would probably be able to right itself eventually. The little thing would probably be telling tales of a monstrously fast blue hedgehog when it got back to its buddies, something Sonic didn't at all mind. He had always liked having a reputation.

Turning his thoughts away from the ROB, he instead sped forward a few feet, slipping ahead in a blur of blue. Abruptly he stopped behind a couple of thick bushes, making the large leaves ripple wildly in the sudden wind. Ignoring this strange phenomena, Sonic instead leaned forward, sticking his head through the leaves and getting an eyeful of the white building, surrounded by the ruins.

Even as he watched, an orange-armored space warrior and a large, bright yellow mouse with red cheeks and a jagged tail stepped out of an opening in the building's side, seeming to take in their surroundings. The space warrior took a couple of glances around, then continued forward, the mouse right beside it. Sonic followed them with his eyes as the two then disappeared into a second, lower white building that he hadn't seen before. This one seemed to sink right into the ground and seemed to make up the second half of the base.

Sonic blinked and leaned back, the bush's leaves tickling his nose as he thought over what he had just seen. Strange things were definitely going on around here…and they had just gotten stranger. Since when did a scary space warrior like that one go around with a pet rodent? Strange hardly covered it…

There was a huge thump that shook the ground, followed by a muffled explosion somewhere in the distance. Sonic jumped, looking around. What was that?

For a moment he paused, wondering if he should stay and perhaps rise to help the space warrior. But no - that guy was way to creepy for his taste. The dude could probably take care of himself, anyway. Neither of those two looked like they needed any help.

Nodding with his decision, Sonic instead turned his head in the direction of the explosion - and vanished, leaving a gust of air and leaves in his wake.

* * *

The fallen ROB eventually ceased it struggling, resigned to its fate. Life had always been cruel of late…his brothers and sisters dying by the dozens as the hours passed, their search for pride meaningless, the intentions of their leader, the Great Ancient Minister, unclear and strange…and now a tall blue hedgehog had emerged from nowhere and knocked him over, injuring his neck circuits _and _leaving him to struggle on his side like some sort of mechanical turtle.

With a dejected whirr of gears and wiring, the ROB fell limp, his head still dangling, optical receptors turned down to the ground. So this was how he would perish…he had hoped to have at least secured a dignified end, perishing for the wise cause of the Great Ancient Minister, but apparently even that would not be so. No, he would simply fall away, trapped by his own inability to move with proper reflexes, left to stare at the ground and nothing else while his joints rusted away and fell off, while his treads peeled off and his optical lenses grew cracked and foggy…

There was a slithering, rustling sound from behind the ROB. Feeling ever more dejected - had something else now come to torment him? - he attempted to lift his head, but could not, his neck circuits too weak to support it any longer. Instead he could only stare at the ground as the slithering grew louder - and then, in a surge, ROB felt himself being engulfed in a curtain of something soft and slimy…something _purple_. A surge of surprise chased through his wiring as he realized that the revered, all-powerful substance, a material of the Great Ancient Minister that could copy heroes and posses their trophies, had clung to him, and was now sinking into him, melding with his limbs, melting into his circuitry. ROB shivered as a new feeling of warmth and power flowed through his limbs…and with hardly an effort, he raised himself back on both tank treads, head swiveling expertly as though it had never been injured.

ROB surveyed his surroundings, momentarily confused - everything seemed somehow more distant. As though he had grown taller, stronger.

_Oh, but you have, my friend, _a voice in his head suddenly whispered, making ROB jump. _For I have chosen you, my ROB. No longer shall you be a small robot to be made play of. No, now you are ROB, the Giant ROB. _

ROB merely flickered his receptors in disbelief. Could it be true? Could the substance have really chosen him, granted him such power?

_Oh, I have chosen you all right, my comrade. You shall do great things, for the Great Ancient Minister you love so much, for your brothers and sisters. You shall now join the battlefield. Tell me, is there a hero you would like to destroy, my good friend? Someone you rather dislike?_

ROB flickered his receptors again. All of this power…he stared at his own clawed hands, closing them and opening them again. They were so large, so strong…big enough to crush the body of something tall and blue, something fast and cruel…

Yes, there was indeed someone he would like to destroy. And Giant ROB rolled forward, circuits hardening as he set off in pursuit of his tormentor. Towards the area where a certain ship has crashed…

* * *

Red grinned as Charizard's trophy landed with a thump on its side. Then, smile widening, he turned to the valiant Ivysaur that sat to one side, waiting for him to acknowledge it.

The Ivysaur deserved praise, for certain. It had had a hard time against a fire-type Pokemon, especially one as high-level as this one, but the Charizard had also been a rich source of battle experience, something the Pokemon needed. Ivysaur already looked much stronger now, despite the char marks on its leaves and skin. Red raised a pokeball, and the little Pokemon accepted the offer gladly.

Lucas, who was still slightly shaken by the fiery confrontation of the orange dragon, watched in awe as Red then removed a third ball from his belt and raised it, claiming the Charizard. Dusting some ash from his vest, Red then beckoned to Lucas, who gladly followed him into the next chamber…

The two stopped just inside, gazing up at the ceiling…because there wasn't one at all. The room simply went up and up, on an on, like a tunnel gone vertical. And there wasn't even anywhere else to go - the wall at the other end did not carry any trace of a door or entrance.

Even as Red peered up, frowning, a strange rumbling suddenly filled the air, and trails of sand suddenly drifted from the shadows high above…

* * *

A/N: Well, there you go. I've been under a lot of requests, so yes, Sonic has now been added in the storyline. He won't be changing the plot or anything, so don't worry - think of him as a kind of spectator until his part comes at the end…;) Anyways, reviews are welcome, as well as flames - they make good laughingstock as well.


	15. Chapter 14

A/N: …Well. Um. What to say, what to say…

…Okay. Put simply, my motivation has recently taken a vacation trip to the Caribbean, and has just now decided to finally come back. That work well enough?

Anyway…looking back now…many thanks to shadowwolf75 (apologies if spelled wrong) for pointing out the horizontal rule that the site provides now. The last two or three chapters have been successfully edited, to my knowledge…hopefully I'll be able to fix the rest of the story when I get the chance…and also, on a little fun-fact update, this fanfic has obtained a total of 10,489 hits as of this day and hour!! Many thanks to all of you for your undivided attention!!

And now, to cut short all this atrocious rambling, I suppose I'd better step down and get on with the story before those virtual vegetables start flying…I've tried your patience enough already as it is…

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own it. -bursts into barrage of uncontrollable tears- Oh, why?! _Why?!_

* * *

Captain Olimar blinked, dazed, as the world slowly swirled back into being around him.

He was lying on his back. His head was pounding. His eyesight was fading in and out. Overall, the predicament was dauntingly familiar…

The little man whom, in his past lives, had once been an inhabitant of a planet known as Hocotate, painstakingly pulled himself to his feet, puffing slightly from the effort. He simply stood there for a moment, weary and confused and aching all over, blinking at the coordinates and stats that began to dance across the rounded, transparent view of his goldfish-bowl helmet.

At length, the shape of the situation began to unfold in his head. Memories began flooding back, meticulously memorized and organized into chronological order without Olimar even realizing it. Reminiscing through the whole thing, the small captain suddenly winced. And turned, facing his ship. Which, unsurprisingly, had landed on its nose, surrounded by a massive scorch-mark where it had hit the ground.

Slowly Olimar shook his head, feeling resigned. This situation was almost uncalled for, after all he had learned in his past lives. His beloved ship, the Dolphin, had always had some sort of odd malfunction from the beginning of its coming to being, which had been around the same time Olimar himself had been recreated by the unknown powers outside and beyond. Perhaps it was a residue of its previously orchestrated crash, on a distant planter with poisonous oxygen and oversized plants. Or maybe it was a mistake on the part of the creators. But either way, Olimar knew he had been foolish to not have seen it coming.

He came forward cautiously, inspecting his ship with a sharp eye. Everything seemed in place this time, fortunately…though truth be told, he hadn't fallen very far…they had already been in the sky, approaching this floating island, when the engines had suddenly and inexplicably stopped working…the engines…

If Olimar could, he would have groaned in dismay. No, there was no mistaking it. The engines of the Dolphin had been knocked off completely. And the Onions…the Onions were nowhere to be seen.

Just as this second problem came to mind, however, Olimar caught some small movement to his right and turned, feeling relief flood through him as a red Pikmin staggered into the clearing, looking about as dazed as he had been before. And then, following it, came more and more - reds, blues, yellows, even a few whites and purples. The counter on his helmet tallied twenty-four, all in all. More than enough to carry the Dolphin's engine, unless his memory of that particular past life was very flawed.

Feeling much more at ease in knowing that at least a fraction of his little companions had survived, Olimar checked the radar, which flickered on his helmet as well. A flashing, large gray star point in the stark violet background of the screen revealed the engine like a beacon, a few acres away from where they now stood. Olimar turned to the Pikmin, blowing his whistle. And the Pikmin jumped to attention, little stems bobbing, wide round eyes turning to their undisputed leader, with his small stature and the red glowing light bobbing over his head.

Olimar wasn't at all aware of the pair of interested green eyes that followed his progress as the captain then trooped off into the jungle, the Pikmin following behind him in a jumping, colorful flood, whites taking up the lead beside the reds, the chubby purples lumbering in the rear. Then a fern-like bush rippled as a blue blur sped out from behind it in pursuit of the strange group.

* * *

Meta Knight pulled back his wings sharply, spiraling into a tightly curved dive as the robot, a Galleom, lunged at him with a huge purple hand. Narrowly escaping the fate of being flattened, the Star Warrior hit the ground running, slashing a few times at the mechanical beast's exposed legs before dodging backwards to let Ike launch a few hits. He turned just in time to watch as Marth, covering for Ike from behind, was slammed in the side by one of the Galleom's arms and sent flying head over heels, landing with a heavy thud a few yards away and sending up a cloud of dust and sand.

With renewed vigor Meta Knight took to the air again, wings whipping into being as he lunged for the Galleom's armored head. The giant blinked and uttered a metallic growl of annoyance as Meta Knight aimed for its bloodshot eyes, jabbing and slashing in his signature lightning-swift attack. Then, before the robot could swat him away like a fly, the masked warrior pulled back, returning to the ground once more while Ike hacked and slashed his way to the other side of the sand pit, casting a quick glance in Meta Knight's direction before deliberately drawing the Galleom's attention away from them. Considering the astounding power of his holy blade, Ragnel, Ike's attempt was quite fruitful, and Meta Knight sent a silent word of mental thanks to the battle-hardened mercenary before hurrying to Marth's side, the Altean prince in the process of struggling to his feet.

Careful not to tarnish the swordsman's pride, Meta Knight paused where he stood, only nodding questioningly as Marth looked up, raised on one arm, the other grasping the hilt of Falchion anew. Marth nodded back wordlessly, pulling himself to his feet. Meta Knight watched Marth solemnly for a moment, making sure that the swordsman could support himself, and then took off in a rush of wings, diving once more at the foul being they faced. And Marth, taking a shallow breath and putting the pain in his side to one side, dashed forward as well, Falchion raised at an angle to his side, joining Ike at the Galleom's feet in a few swift strides.

Ike himself, face grim with his features pulled into a grimace of effort, only spared Marth a brief glance before tossing Ragnel high above his head and leaping up, catching the blade again and bringing it down hard in a vertical slash across the Galleom's chest. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Marth leaped as well at the same time, whipping his own slim blade up in a swift slash that created its own vertical gouge in the Galleom's foul metal-plated bodice. The massive machine hardly seemed to notice, however, attention mainly riveted on Meta Knight, circling far above, raining swift streaks of flame-lined gold upon its head.

Ike swallowed, regaining his footing on the shifting sand and lunging forward, landing a powerful blow on the Galleom's scarred legs. He had traveled aimlessly through this land for many a long day, month, year…he hardly knew now, nor cared. He had always been alone then, fated to wander this strange dimension, beholding its beauties and terrors in equal terms, engaging himself in the occasional battle that might make itself opportune. He had been quite used to that form of living, of course - though he remembered a previous life surrounded by warriors grim and glad alike, fighting at his side, watching his back, he hadn't minded being by himself here. It had felt completely normal. And then that great, all-devouring globe of violet had appeared, and all that had drastically changed.

He couldn't help but notice how well the three of them worked together, how smoothly their attacks blended, damaging, defending, looking out for each other and letting one fend for himself as well. Now those strange, detached memories of faithful friend and shattered family came rushing back, filling his head, inexplicably clear, yet forever distant. And for the first time in this life he felt…a pang. A wordless sorrow, for what he had once had and cherished, that which he could no longer truly attain.

And yet, even at that moment, he couldn't help but wonder. Was he really fated to being forever alone, as he had always assumed?

The answer seemed to drift down from the blazing heavens above, making him tighten his grip on Ragnel, making him charge forward and leap, Marth on his left, Meta Knight diving down at his right.

No. He didn't have to be alone. And, in a sudden lightning-strike of realization, Ike knew that he didn't want to be, and wouldn't need to be. For he had friends now, these two other warriors so like himself - and he would fight with them until all his strength gave way.

And so his thoughts wandered as the Galleom gave a choking roar of metallic fury, rolling backwards, finally feeling the toll of the damage it had received. It pulled back, eyeing the three swordsmen maliciously, clenching its huge hands into fists…and then it turned away abruptly, leaping into the air. Running away.

The three watched in a mixture of astonishment and scorn as the Galleom took off, tossing up a huge plume of sand in its wake, pounding its way to the edges of the desert, so close by. It jumped once again, this time over a ridge, the swordsmen following in hot pursuit. However, they all stopped abruptly at the edge and looked down, down at the sheer drop that opened up before them. Quite some way down the foot of the slim peak before them unfurled, revealing a torn causeway lined by a sentinel of pillars, one of them strangely encased in ice near a gaping entrance that led into the mountain itself.

As they looked on the Galleom raced right across it, smashing into pillars, splinters of rock flying as it fled in a wild rage.

That is, until a yawning pit opened up right beneath its massive weight.

The robot froze as a good portion of the causeway it stood on began to depress, cracks winging their way from beneath its feet and stretching out in a giant circle. The Galleom could only emit a noiseless scream of fury as it suddenly fell, completely disappearing into the pit that opened up beneath it.

* * *

Red and Lucas exchanged glances of alarm as a low rumbling began to fill the air. The vertical tunnel above their heads seemed to tremble as the falling dust grew thicker, until it was accompanied by large chips of broken stone. And then there was the unmistakable crack of rock as something far above finally gave way.

The two hardly had time to step back as a huge mass of glinting steel and creaking gears fell straight from above, bringing with it a rush of pale sunlight and a flood of huge, shattered rock. It landed with a deafening thump on the ground before the Trainer and the boy, causing the very walls to tremble, and the force of the hit sent the two small spectators sprawling on their backs, barely avoiding the debris that rained down from above.

Red was the first to recover, climbing swiftly to his feet and relatively unharmed. He glared right back at the robot even as it raised itself upright, a mass of metal and feral glowing eyes, emitting a metallic snarl that was comprised of pure malice. Lucas soon came up beside him as Red lifted a pokeball, raising his own hand and igniting a golden flame of psychokinetic energy himself.

Lucas knew he was still afraid, as afraid as he had ever been before. He could feel the fear deep inside of him, fear that made his legs tremble, even as he glared with just as much defiance at the Galleom that reared up before them. He was still scared…but he couldn't back down. Not now. Not after all he had been through with Red. It felt almost as though the fighter's courage was fueling his own, strengthening his resolve, dulling his fear.

Lucas let the flame in his palm intensify as determination welled up, finally banishing his fear. He would not let down Red now. Not Red…or Ness, wherever he might be…

* * *

Captain Olimar watched in satisfaction as his Pikmin pressed forward industriously, almost all of them in the process of heaving the still-chugging engine the last few feet to the grounded Dolphin. Almost all of them were taking part in the process, albeit the small white Pikmin, who did not have the strength to carry something so large, and of whom were hovering around the edges of the group with a few other Pikmin, watching for any danger that might come their way.

At length the moving engine finally came to a halt, and the twenty or so carrying it set down the mechanism in the ring of light that flowed from the Dolphin's suction tube, something Olimar had activated upon his return to the clearing where they had crash-landed. He watched with growing relief as the engine quivered and then was gone, though the Dolphin flopped back on its base, the newly reattached engine adorning the bottom. With a thrill of joy Olimar did a small, whooping jump, and the Pikmin, seeing his obvious elation, turned to each other as well, stems bobbing happily as they then flowed up and around their leader in a colorful tide of leaves and flowers.

However, this celebration did not last very long.

Olimar jumped again, this time rather violently, as a huge ROB burst into the clearing. It stopped for a moment on its tank treads, each of which were twice as long as Olimar himself was tall, and its head swiveled as the ROB took its bearings. It spotted Olimar.

All at once the ROB started forward again, but before it had come forward more than a few feet a blue blur suddenly whipped up from nowhere, dashing right across its path and then stopping abruptly, materializing into a blue hedgehog clad in red sneakers and white gloves. A grin on his features. He gave the ROB a more careful look, however, and his green eyes widened slightly in recognition.

The ROB's wide optical receptors suddenly flashed red at that same moment, and a strangled beep of apparent rage rose as it lunged forward, clawed arms outstretched. Still obviously surprised, the blue hedgehog easily dodged the attack, throwing a worried glance in Olimar's direction. Olimar stared back, his brain quite frozen for once. Things were happening so soon, so quickly -

The hedgehog blinked once, even as the ROB swerved around again to face him. And then he was gone, speeding through the trees. The ROB chasing after him with another angry screech.

Olimar simply stood there for a moment, feeling rather like a Pikmin sprout, feet rooted and unmovable in the rich earth. And then his mind began working once more, and he understood in a rush. That hedgehog had been trying to _protect_ him, by luring away that terrifyingly large robot.

Olimar frowned then, a wave of worry rushing over him. No…no, it should not have been that way! That fighter was obviously fast, but still…what if he could not handle that ROB? Olimar knew quite well how to deal with enemies much bigger than himself, but even he could see a formidable opponent in that giant ROB. If that hedgehog was defeated…if that ROB won…Olimar would never be able to forgive himself.

All at once the captain came to a resolution. Casting a regretful glance at his ship, he turned away, blowing his whistle and watching with a calculating mind as the Pikmin obediently assembled behind him. Then he started forward, into the trees, some of which had been crushed or scraped by the enemy he now pursued…

* * *

Sonic skidded to a halt as his feet met the edge of a gray-stoned path, one of the many leading to the ruins deeper in the forest. He turned around, watching as the Giant ROB emerged through the trees in hot pursuit, mind racing as fast as his legs had been moments before.

He had seen it all, the way the little man had commanded those odd little plant things, how he had repaired his funky spaceship. The memory would have brought an amused smile to the hedgehog's face during any other occasion, but now Sonic only hoped the guy was all right. No way such a small dude could have taken on a giant like this thing…he knew he had done the right thing, leading the ROB away. Though it obviously wanted to hurt him, and badly, at that.

Sonic bounced briefly on his heels as the ROB broke through the last of the foliage, wondering if he ought to run further. …Of course not. He could take this thing easy. Maybe that Giant ROB, which he could have sworn he had seen before in a much smaller condition, had the firepower to blow off part of a mountain, but he had the speed to blow off the sound barrier, and more.

Easy pickings.

Confident smile already gracing his features once more, Sonic whipped into a blur once more, aiming to trace a baffling circle around the ROB before launching an attack. Perhaps he could have indeed defeated the enraged, vengeful robot. If things had cut out the way they would have, the fate of the Smash World would have been irreversibly changed.

Put simply, doomed.

And this possibility was tossed aside as Sonic dove into nearby foliage, banked sharply to the right in a U-turn - and was snatched up by a huge mass of white glove and movement, a mass that then shot off erratically into the forest in a wind of twitching fingers.

It was not Master Hand.

* * *

Captain Olimar plunged into the clearing - and abruptly reeled backwards, sending a wave of Pikmin bouncing back as well in surprise.

Eyes wide for once, Olimar scanned the clearing frantically, even as the Giant ROB whirred around to face him. Those odd optical receptors seemed to be briefly filled with some sort of emotion, perhaps confusion - and though that soon vanished in a rush of violet, Olimar could understand why the ROB would have been puzzled.

For, just moments ago, the blue hedgehog had quite literally disappeared.

A thrill of fear shot through Olimar's small body - he felt like clutching someone's arm for support. He had been pursuing the two in hopes of being able to fight this monstrosity side by side, with a friend, as he had assumed that hedgehog to be. And yet - where had that strange individual gone? Had he run away, using that remarkable speed? The ROB could not have defeated him already. No, there was too much angry bafflement radiating from the huge robot's persona.

No matter - no time to think of such thoughts now. The ROB was eyeing Olimar in a way that the captain, quite frankly, did not like in the least.

His fears were confirmed as the ROB surged forward.

Olimar jumped to one side, evading a swing of the ROB's clawed arms. Planting his feet on the crumbling stone path they now stood on, Olimar blew his whistle again, and the Pikmin assembled before him in a surging tide, little bodies tense with fear - and determination. Ready to defend Olimar at all costs.

A small blossom of happiness unfurled briefly in Olimar's thoughts - he simply didn't know where he'd be without these faithful creatures, these fragile beings that had done so much for him. But the happiness was short-lived, and the flower of joy bent and closed its warming petals as the ROB hesitated, and then whirled around to face him once more. Bending his mind on the task at hand, Olimar grasped the stem of the nearest yellow Pikmin…

* * *

The ROB's mind was a seething mass of emotions, emotions so powerful that they pounded through his very wiring. The sensation was utterly terrifying.

The robot stared at the spot where that wicked hedgehog had vanished, snatched up by a blur of white that had then flown away, far away, forever out of his reach, no matter how big his clawed arms had become. The flaming anger the ROB had once felt was now belied by confusion, indignation - even a touch of relief.

…Was this really who he was? Was he acting like a ROB the Great Ancient Minister would be proud of? Now the ROB was not sure. His own beliefs conflicted with the second entity dominating his thoughts, pumping these strange emotions through his huge metal frame.

_Of course you are doing the right thing, my friend. You are delivering justice. Is that not correct?_

But of course it was correct. And yet…

_Do you doubt me, I who have given you such marvelous powers?_

No, no, of course not! But…

Amid the turmoil came a sound - leaves rustling, small footsteps pounding. Thankful for the distraction, the ROB turned. Anything, anything to relieve him of these painful feelings, these confusing decisions.

But the ROB's spirits fell when it saw who it was. The little man, with the strange helmet and the large nose, surrounded by those frail little plant-like creatures. The small individual seemed shocked at the sight of him, jumping backwards, staring at ROB with fear. The little man had been a friend of the wicked hedgehog, and so he, too, must be wicked. As much as ROB doubted it…

_Do not doubt! Do as you're told! Destroy the little man!_

The whisper was more forceful now, angry. Yet still ROB felt another part of his consciousness, holding him back. How could he harm something so small, without a just reason?

_The little man is wicked, like his wrongful companion. That is reason enough. Now destroy him!_

No…no, he couldn't…

_Dare you defy me, impudent soldier? So be it. If you will not comply, then you leave me no choice…_

Jarring pain shot through the ROB's mind. Yet he couldn't so much as twitch as the last of his consciousness was eaten away by the shadow that now possessed him.

Satisfied, the Giant ROB rushed forward, lunging at the little man, testing its strength. The small hero dodged its attack easily enough. But the Giant ROB was not finished yet, oh no…with this new, powerful body, and the last of that annoyingly pious ROB's mind obliterated, defeating this little man would be an easy task.

* * *

Slowly, very slowly, Sonic the Hedgehog managed to float back into the realm of consciousness.

The situation that greeted him upon his awakening was a few cakes short of a welcome-back party, to say the least. Everything around him was pitch-black - Sonic doubted he'd be able to see his own hand if he raised it an inch from his nose. Though that theory was impossible to test at the moment, due to the fact that he couldn't move at all. Unbearable pressure crushed him from all sides, as though someone had mashed him into a soft box. As though he were being squeezed by a giant hand.

Which was quite true, in fact.

Before another thought could pass through his mind, Sonic found himself being hurled forward. Light blasted into being around him, momentarily blinding him, and was soon accompanied by a bone-jarring slam as he landed heavily on damp soil. Ever the athlete even in a situation like this, Sonic was still able to bounce back on his feet with an accompanying roll all the same. Though what met his sight was enough to thoroughly startle him.

Floating right in front of him, surrounded by the thick brambles of the jungle, was a hand. A giant, white-gloved, dismembered hand that was twitching uncontrollably. The simple unstable entity of the thing was enough to set Sonic's mind on edge - something about it was simply wrong, messed-up. But he didn't have much time to ponder that.

The hand suddenly stiffened, balling into a fist and rushing forward. Sonic jumped, speedy as ever despite his aching frame, and he landed on the opposite side of the clearing, skidding to a halt. Balling both of his fists, Sonic then dashed forward again, aiming a punch at the mass of flailing digits. He didn't know what it was, why it was here, or where in the world it had even come from, but Sonic knew one thing for sure.

It wasn't friendly. And unless he was greatly mistaken, it seemed downright crazy.

A crazy hand. Imagine that.

* * *

A/N: Well, there you are.

To clarify a few things: first of all, I now understand that the spaceship Captain

Olimar uses in Brawl is not the Dolphin, but a different and much older one. Bear with me here - I didn't know until after I wrote this, and it was easier to write about the Dolphin through use of its name. Secondly, I wanted to somehow include Crazy Hand into this story - I just can't accept that he played no part in SSE. So I came up with this.

For future reviewers, understand that I'm not going to include the secret characters of Brawl in this story - by the time all of them were revealed, I was too far into the plot to make their parts effective and not simply something to breeze through. However, there is a fic by the name of _The Subspace Emissary: The Additional Conflicts_, written by LAZR CAT, that covers this particular subject. I find it quite accurate, in my opinion. If you want to know the possible roles of the secret characters, I highly suggest you read this one.

All that aside, I once again apologize for my…er, minor tardiness. Chew me out in a review if you want - I'll even take that. Just R&R if you can, please.


	16. Chapter 15

A/N: …Oh…man…

Um…

Well…

Okay.

There's only one explanation to this. A perfectly good one.

Finals - are - _evil. EVIL, I TELL YOU!!_ Arrgh…I've been trying to post this chappie for ages, but I haven't gotten the time. One thing led to another, and here I am. At the beginning of summer vacation. Way overdue. Again. TT

Please forgive me. I must warn, however, that updates are probably going to be pretty few and far between from now until…erm…well, until it becomes otherwise. So just hang in there! I ask that, at the very least, you don't give up on me yet. I shall finish this fic. I _will._

Disclaimer: …Getting tired of these…but it's no good having hook-nosed lawyers breathing down your neck, I guess…well…I own nothing. All belongs to the filthy-rich organization they call Nintendo…must've spent hundreds of dollars on those dudes already as it is…what more could they possibly want from me?

* * *

The Galleom recoiled very suddenly, a strange screeching sound rising from its gears. For a brief instant it reared back, surveying his enemies with a sort of furious disbelief as its single-minded thoughts whirled in confusion.

It had been built for the sole purpose of warfare. Its existence was the symbol of the rending of the land, of mindless destruction, just as much as the heroes' was of fighting, of endless combat. It had been made to believe, quite rightly until now, that it was one of the most powerful beings to stride this land, the terror of all inferior life forms, the trump card of the Subspace Emissary.

But now all of its strength, all these beliefs, were being made folly of. And the Galleom quite frankly didn't know what to think anymore.

The main thing pounding its thoughts, pumping every gear and circuit in its hulking body to the point of shattering, was rage. One of the few emotions the Galleom knew. Anger, burning, blazing, white-hot anger.

But belying this fury was that underlying hint of confusion, confusion that wracking its very sinews, ringing a question over and over in its poorly-designed, pitiful excuse for a brain. How? How was it possible? How could these small, fleshy things - these inferior nothings - how could they hurt so much? How could it be that, no matter how many times it swatted them aside and stomped them flat, fired its missiles and toppled them with its speed - how could it be that they somehow always popped back up, jabbing a sharp thing here, shooting odd energy there, commanding other creatures to bite it and tackle it and claw its marvelous metal armor to shreds? The Galleom could not understand it. It had not even believed it, at first. But now, with every move, his mangled gears shrieked in protest, and it had actually lost feeling of several of its appendages.

Now it was overwhelmingly clear that it had been defeated.

Its small brain was not long to last. The Galleom could feel a heat building up in its head, heat fueled by its rage. It somehow knew that it would not be long now. The Great One had gifted it with one last thing, one final weapon, should the inevitable occur.

The Galleom would have its revenge.

With a suppressed roar of metallic fury the Galleom reared back, glaring at the two opponents at its feet through shattered red eyes that still sparked, feral until the very end. Then, with a speed that sent its body's workings screaming, it lunged forward, shooting out a hand.

* * *

Lucas barely had any time to even realize what was happening before the purple hand was shooting forward - was curling around them - was crushing them in its rib-shattering grasp, taking a hunk of the stone floor beneath their feet with it as it then plunged back upright. With hardly any hesitation the Galleom then raised its other arm in the Superman dynamic pose, and rockets sputtered to life from within the engine attached to its back. Lucas only had time to look up once.

What he saw chilled him to the bone.

For the thing that was now protruding from the Galleom's head was obviously a timer, a timer that was steadily counting down from fifteen seconds. A timer that was crested by a small, shivering globe of purple. He knew instantly that it was a Subspace bomb.

And then they broke the sound barrier.

The resulting bang jolted Lucas completely, slamming his head painfully against a knuckle of the Galleom's massive hand. For a moment the world was all stars and winking blackness, and then sharp, slapping gusts of cold air brought him back to consciousness, allowing him to peer over the edge of the appendage they were trapped in with a steadily increasing horror.

Glancing to one side at first, Lucas knew immediately that Red hadn't been nearly as lucky during the takeoff, and was now slumped flat against the ridge of the hand, out cold. That alone was enough to make his stomach drop. However, upon taking in their surroundings, his stomach practically disappeared, opening instead into an abysmal void of despair. He hadn't realized they had been flying steadily upward as he had been staring at the bomb, but now he found himself watching as the gaping hole gracing the base of the mountain dropped away, growing small by the second, while the mountain itself was getting thinner and higher by the second. They had barely cleared the monolith's feet, but that was already quite high…and all the while, the timer ticked inexorably on…

The Galleom was going to self-destruct, taking them and the entire area with it. Lucas could see that now. Time was ticking away, they were rising higher, and the fate of Red and everything else living here now hung in the balance of him and himself alone.

Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, squeezing them tightly shut. Horror had simply numbed him, numbed his brain, numbed his entire body. He couldn't do it. There was no way. He couldn't do anything. He was only the burden, the weak one, the sentimental fool who couldn't even see the point of battling. He was nothing.

Lucas wanted everything to simply go away. He wanted to be alone again, wandering the empty streets of New Pork City. Surely that was better than this. If only he'd stayed there - if only he'd never met those Subspace things - if only Ness hadn't sacrificed himself.

Ness would have been able to find a way out of this. He would have been able to save Red, to save the mountain. Ness should have been the one. But he was not. And now it was all down to Lucas again.

But there was no way he could do it. He'd only fail. Just as he had failed every other time; he'd failed to fight back against Wario and save Ness when he'd had the chance. He'd failed to defeat this Galleom. And now he'd failed to save Red. If anything, he was nothing but one great big failure.

…And yet…

Lucas hated it. He hated being a failure. He hated being the one that was always afraid, the one who couldn't stick up for himself. He despised the position with all the living will he yet possessed. He wanted to be like Ness - he wanted to be like Red. To be strong and confident. To face evil head-on and still laugh about it later. But there was no way he'd ever be like that. It simply couldn't be possible.

But wait…or could it? Could it maybe be that he simply needed more time? Hadn't he become stronger already? A small glint of hope had Lucas opening his eyes slowly as a new revelation hit him.

Perhaps he had always been a failure, but…maybe there was a way to reverse that. Rest besides, he hadn't failed Red - not yet. There was still time, fleeting as it was.

If there was ever a moment that Lucas wanted to quit being a failure once and for all, it was now. And his mind suddenly snapped clear like a sheet of pure-white sail in a clean gust of wind. Suddenly he knew just what he had to do.

Even as the resonating timer ticked on, Lucas squeezed his eyes shut again, but this time it was not despair that chased across his thoughts. No, now he bowed his head, melding all of his consciousness into a solid bar, a bar that he could then ram through that weird barrier in his mind, the barrier that held the key to his PSI abilities. As soon as he had breached it, he thrust the bar inside with a vengeance, fishing out just the right power, a white ball of heat that he then withdrew, flinging it out, right through his skull, into the open air.

With a blaze of white plasma, a tendril of PK Thunder flashed into existence, whipping through the air in a trail of sparks, plunging its way directly through the wrist of the Galleom's hand - which instantly exploded.

Freed from the signals controlling it, the hand opened even as it fell, releasing its captives into freefall while its body plowed steadily on, higher and higher, the timer growing louder and louder.

Five…four…three…

Lucas squinted hard against the chopping air, clearing his streaming eyes. One slight tilt of his head, a huge effort in the pressure of the fall, revealed Red plummeting just beside him, headfirst, still dead to the world, his clothes flapping just as violently as Lucas's own. Not seeing much other choice, Lucas tilted himself forward and grabbed the closest thing of Red that he could reach - the teen's head. Then, the fabric of the red and white cap burning against his fingers in the harsh wind, he closed his eyes again, trying to concentrate.

Though his heart blazed with determination, Lucas knew well enough that he simply didn't have the power to stop their fall - something that would procure instant death, which wasn't even a choice with a Subspace bomb soon to come into being. Lucas shuddered to think what would happen to their trophies in the explosion. But all he could do was slow their descent a little, though he didn't know what good it would do.

So he'd failed after all. Odd. For some reason, he didn't feel depressed by the prospect at all. Reasonably put, he'd tried. He'd tried the hardest he'd ever had to in his life. And even if the attempt had proven completely fruitless in the end, he somehow didn't mind that. At least he could go honorably, knowing he had put up a fight to the very end, just like a real hero would…

The ground was rushing up to meet them. He could see it clearly know, gaping hole and 

all - he could even see the ruined road, and he thought he could even catch a glint of the pillar he had frozen - funny he'd be remembering that. And now he could pick out the details of each broken brick, the shape and cut of every rock, and the shining mask of something small and round, with glowing yellow eyes and purple webbed wings, hurtling towards them through the air.

Wait…what…?

Two…one…

There was an air-rippling explosion, an explosion that completely blasted out what little remained of Lucas's hearing. Suddenly there was stunning pressure, thrusting them both down - everything was black - and the last thing Lucas knew was the oddest of sensations. It were almost as though something had snatched him by the collar of his shirt and was bearing him away, far away from everything, into nowhere. Strange…

* * *

A new globe of Subspace was procured soon enough, and the base of the mountain was one of the things instantly swallowed. Shortly following a further expansion of the new orb, the trophy of a short, squat man in a cycler's helmet, sporting a large nose, pudgy belly, and jagged mustache, could be seen being sucked into its rippling depths, hurled into Subspace itself, and presumed gone forever…

* * *

The Ancient Minister saw it all.

Odd, the way that orb seemed to expand with such dark grace, craftily sucking up all in its path. Truly a work of art…of their own art…how his ancestors would have been proud…

Or perhaps not…seeing how they were being used now…

He knew that his kind should never, ever have tapped into the realm of Subspace.

But it was too late for such thoughts now. The deeds had been done, done beyond repair. The heroes were trying to stop it, he knew. Trying, the way a drowning being tries to keep itself afloat, before the inevitable…

Did those heroes really care about this world? That particular chord of thought still chimed constantly. Some of them obviously didn't, to be sure - the ones working with Subspace were obvious picks - but what of those who were…trying? Those heroes…he knew them well, knew them almost better than they did themselves. At times he could have almost thought them as puppets, toys to entertain their creator. All of that ceaseless fighting…all of that useless skill…one would almost think so. And then there came those odd moments, when they showed feeling, actual emotion, for the briefest of times.

He had learned that they had been practically snatched from their own universes, to say the least - they were copies of what they stood for, of great persons they had once represented. Did they sometimes remember those worlds, he often wondered? Did some of them miss those places, those old friends? Was that the main source of their emotion? If so, perhaps that would more easily explain their readiness to defend this place…

It would make sense. The Ancient Minister knew loneliness and loss very well, more than he would ever have liked. This world…it was all these heroes had now. To those that had defended so many other worlds, places to fight for simply because they had been called home, it was their responsibility. It was just possible that they actually cared about this world, in their own odd ways.

And here he and his kindred were, submitting to the evil, aiding to drag this place into Subspace.

The thought stabbed him like a jagged knife, rather as it had so many times before. But he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it now. They had plunged to far, too deep. No more was there a chance to rise again to the surface. And now his siblings were slowly but surely being eliminated, Subspace bomb by Subspace bomb. He could see every one of them now, in his very sight - looking up to him with that helpless devotion, sure that everything would be okay as long as he himself was there, before they were devoured by Subspace, in time to realize they had been betrayed. All of that unleaded faith, snuffed out in the end like a useless candle. It was enough to make the Ancient Minister feel almost ill, though that wasn't really possible due to his body's components.

His people…his followers…his family…he had betrayed them all.

How long could this go on? Would that thousand-accursed being that called itself the Great One simply keep using them until only the Ancient Minister himself remained? It was a thought he almost couldn't bear.

No…of course not…nothing could be that cruel. They had made a deal. So long as his people could be spared from the rising of Subspace…

But was it really worth it? Would such a being even keep to his word? But no matter now…he had to deliver this bomb to the middle of the desert, and soon…

A streak of light fizzed into life mere feet behind him, and he barely had time to pull to one side. He turned.

Pit's mouth thinned, and he crouched, ready to leap in case the Ancient Minister decided to fire some lasers in his direction. He was already feeling disgruntled - after following this thing's trail through the endless desert, only to miss his target _again_ - the whole thing was growing very annoying. This must have been the third time that he had missed his mark in a single day. Perhaps he was losing his touch?

Mario was quick to come up beside him, Link flanking his other side soon after. Then Yoshi caught up, and Kirby as well. The Ancient Minister hovered in place for a moment, sweeping them all with that incredibly odd gaze - and then he turned, and was gone, rushing through the air at top speeds in the opposite direction.

The five took off after him, plumes of sand tossing up in their wake.

* * *

The Ancient Minister couldn't help it - he was impressed. After pursuing him through miles of searing dunes, thrusting against sand-freckled winds, leaping and dodging their way across platforms and any enemy he sent their way, he really felt admiration for these heroes' raw endurance. Their creator had built them well. Almost too well.

Now he turned round on his platform, facing his pursuers, a new thorn of urgency forming in his mind. These heroes had to stay away - even if he had to force them back. The thought of their limp trophies being sucked into Subspace did nothing good for his conscience, and he still felt pity for these fighters, who kept trying and trying, as though they actually thought they could win.

He turned his attention to the two nearest ones, both particularly famous in this world: a short man clad in red and blue overalls, complete with a mustache and white gloves, and a tall young man clad in green and underlying mail, a sword and shield held in each hand, long green hat flying in the wind as he ran. The Ancient Minister began blasting, four lasers at a time, his platform rocking side to side with the force of each blast.

Once again a ray of admiration passed through him as he watched the two fighters somehow miraculously manage to dodge every one, the green one ducking and sidestepping, the red one shuffling and even occasionally leaping in the oddest of angles, somehow managing to hold onto his trademark hat at the same time. The lasers were instead burying themselves in the sand and the occasional brick that outlined an old, old road that had long since ceased to be used. The Ancient Minister stopped abruptly as a line of ROBs suddenly appeared, effectively blocking the way and bringing to the two warriors to a halt.

He realized with a jolt of dread that he had somehow arrived at the prearranged area, and now his followers were waiting for him below. Even as he hesitated he looked down in shock, in time to spot a ROB already clinging to the bomb he held from below. The weight unlatched the weapon automatically, and the silver ball fell with a huge thump, shattering the clinging ROB's body as it hit the ground. Immediately two more ROBs were there, rolling over to each of the ball's sides and latching on, pulling.

The timer appeared, counting down from three minutes.

Two more heroes managed to break away from the ensuing fray ahead of them, and the Ancient Minister watched in a sort of melancholy pity as the winged boy and the red plumber threw themselves upon the attached ROBs. Pit yanked at one's shoulders, while Mario punched the other's head repeatedly. But the Ancient Minister knew it would be no good. This was why the concept of the Subspace bombs had been abandoned by his ancestors in the first place. Once a ROB was attached, it could never be freed, even if it wished to break away. Instead they were fated to simply wait, the timer droning on and on, waiting, waiting to be destroyed. A truly horrible fate.

Two more ROBs came around, grasping the two heroes and easily pulling them away from the bomb despite their struggles. The Ancient Minister began to fly backwards, as swiftly as he could, eyes never leaving his followers as they all turned to watch him leave. One of them actually waved goodbye, awkwardly swinging its mechanical arm skyward.

The timer reached zero.

From the distance a person could watch as the air surged, and a globe of violet leaped into being, dust flying into a tight orbit before being devoured, the very space around it bending into rippling waves of consumed energy. One could also watch as five particular heroes fled with all the speed they could, practically at the globe's ever-expanding feet, two clinging to a soaring Warpstar manned by a pink puffball, while another rode upon the back of a long-time friend.

The Ancient Minister saw it all.

* * *

Red found himself slowly floating back into consciousness, and the first thing that struck him was the well-being of his Pokemon. Almost automatically he raised a hand, which fell upon his belt. Yes…good…they were all there, all three pokeballs, all of them warm with the life of their inhabitants. So they were safe…but wait…

The little he could remember before blacking out involved being grasped by a giant hand, a sensation of flying upward, and the loud ticking of a dreaded timer. Then there had been a bang, and nothing…so how was he still able to move? Surely he was already a cold trophy?

The first thing Red saw upon opening his eyes was the smiling face of Lucas.

Immediately he tried to climb to his feet, and nearly succeeded, though somehow his strength gave way as he managed to rise to his knees, and soon he was on all fours, panting. Looking around, he could see three other fighters standing around them, capes flapping in the wind. Two blue-haired swordsmen surveyed them gravely, and another small, round being with a silver mask and glowing eyes looked on as well, a flamed blade grasped in one gloved hand.

However, he hardly noticed any of that. Instead he turned back to Lucas, and the smile on the boy's face told him everything he needed to know. Lucas was entirely changed, now - there was a confident air around him as Red looked, the way he held his shoulders, to way he grinned so freely. Red hardly doubted the smaller companion had saved both of their skins.

Lucas outstretched a helping hand. Red took it gladly, turning it into a sort of handshake in the process - and they both laughed, equals at last.

Red's smile widened as he finally climbed to his feet, strength returning in a large burst. Heh…perhaps there was hope for this kid after all…

But their happiness soon gave way as the five all turned to the globe of Subspace festering at the base of the mountain some ways in the distance. They seemed to be standing on the rocky ledge of yet another mountain, this one thicker and taller than the last, sporting snow at its tip.

Then a roar of air met their ears, and they all looked up as a scene unfolded before their eyes.

* * *

A/N: A little enemy interpretation is good fer human the soul, they say. :V

That besides, I know some of this material might be a bit inaccurate, as I haven't seen the Subspace Emissary cut scenes for a while, and I'm too much of a bum to drag my lazy butt to the Internet and look. :D Pretty short chappie, in my opinion, but hopefully the next will be longer. I just wanted to provide an insight into the Ancient Minister's thoughts for a bit…I, for one, feel particularly sorry for him. But I digress. Everyone has their own opinions.

Reviews are welcome, as always.


	17. Chapter 16

A/N: Fwahaha! Yes, I have somehow been able to sneak in this here chapter through mysterious and powerful means that I myself do not understand. Summer vacation has in fact finally arrived for me, though everything is still slightly chaotic on this end. All the same, I hope you all enjoy this update. It may be rather short this time around, but I just had to fill in this last link before turning to the storm soon to unfurl. :P

Disclaimer: Tis not mine, not one little shred, nay. Why folk would suspect me of such, prithee, I know not. I ask only that thou not thinkest begrudgingly of me as such.

* * *

Pikmin, most unfortunately, are not the strongest of creatures.

They are a delicate incarnation of all that is small and frail, cursed with the typical lifespan of no more than a single day. The world will always be beautiful but brief to these tiny, bright-colored little beings. Despite their frailties, however, they always fight their best to cling a little longer to the fleeting, uncertain thing they know as life, always on the lookout for anything that might aid them in their impossible quest for longevity. And their savior came, one day, in the form of a little man of their size. A man named Olimar.

Because of this they follow him, faithfully and ceaselessly, through water and fire, wind and cave. They heed his every word, his every gesture, his every command. They come to tune themselves to the trill of his whistle, the bob of his red light, and the thrill of his joy, joy that they too would partake in. For they know that he holds the key to staying alive. And even when this key may occasionally fail, even when Olimar should make a miscalculation and bring dozens of them to their deaths, even then, they continue to follow him. For he and he alone can guide them justly and knowingly to the way, the way to living life at its very fullest. And serve him they will, till the very end.

It was no different then, in that other world, that other life. It is no different now, in this different world, this different life. And it will never be different in the future, in another world, another life.

It is now simply the way of things…

* * *

Captain Olimar cringed as a dozen more Pikmin were flung from the steel body of the Giant ROB, flung to their deaths upon striking the ground. He took several steps backward, finding himself able to count every single little spirit in the ethereal cloud that drifted upward from the road, a cloud that soon evaporated in the sunlight. Even now, as a customarily emotionless fighter, he still felt a stab of grief every time he saw that sort of spectral.

Now, however, was not the time to think of such things. Olimar knew this as the ROB tilted its head down, now giving him that same deadly stare with those violet-clouded lenses. Mercy, each of those glass eyes must have been as large and round as Olimar's own head! Not a very comforting thought, admittedly.

The said Captain glanced around him, dismay weighing down his slight limbs as he counted what little remained of his previous score of Pikmin. After several failed attacks that had resulted in a huge loss of numbers and very little damage to the ROB itself, Olimar was beginning to wonder if he'd even be able to pull out of this battle alive. Now only about ten remained: two hulking purples, a couple of whites, and a scattered number of yellows and blues. He had only one red left to him, and that particular one had been with him since his reincarnation into this world.

Even against the obviously crushing odds, the Pikmin did not seem willing to back down. They flanked Olimar in a straggled multicolored rank, protective until the end, gathering around their Captain even as he stepped back once more.

Olimar was not liking the look that ROB was giving him. No, not at all.

With a trembling outstretched hand he grabbed the stem of the nearest Pikmin, a blue one this time, and was quite prepared to hurl it at the ROB once more, for all the good it would do - he could even feel the little fellow tensing up its body for its moment of attack. However, before Olimar could do so, the single red, which had been glancing back behind him, now uttered a small squeak, tapping Olimar's shoulder with one tiny hand.

Olimar knew better than to ignore a Pikmin if it had something to say. Though generally simpleminded, a Pikmin knew things that Olimar himself would often be unaware of. Due to their strong affinity to the earth, they could feel the slightest of approaching tremors, and sometimes they could even feel the approach of something through the air itself.

Reasonably, Olimar lowered the blue one slightly and then set it down as the red Pikmin turned round again, tapping its sharp nose wonderingly.

The little man barely had time to turn around before it came.

* * *

Captain Falcon raised an eyebrow as the set of data chased its way across the dashboard of his racer, reflecting against the cockpit windshield as it outlined an obstacle ahead.

At the moment, Falcon himself couldn't see anything at all ahead - which generally made sense, as he was climbing a hill, albeit at a relatively low speed - ninety miles an hour was quite slow for an F-Zero racer. On either side of this makeshift road thick trees and foliage flashed past in a blur of dark green. He was still wondering about that, too. Trees. Most obviously organic.

Perhaps it was the mentality of his previous life, but Falcon had fully expected this floating isle to be more…artificial, say. It would have made sense - a mass of technology and machinery powered by engines capable of upholding its mass at high air levels was a completely ordinary explanation. But this place was most obviously _not_ a giant machine. Which left many questions hanging delicately in the air.

Falcon was content to leave those questions unanswered for the time being. Let the mysteries lie, as he'd always thought. Rest besides, he had more important things to think about. Those Subspace bombs being one of them.

He was fairly sure that by now every hero in this world had caught whiff of those huge, land-devouring globes. He himself knew for a fact that they did not belong here. Falcon had found himself intrigued and suspicious at the idea, especially after witnessing one for himself. And so he had decided, quite reasonably, to investigate. After doing a little bit of tracing and tracking he had found a reliable trail - he had once been a bounty hunter in his previous life, besides. The trail had led here, to this floating island.

He had not been alone in his tracking, admittedly. Part of it had been achieved with aid from another fellow past-life bounty hunter, a fighter by the name of Samus Aran. Her technological armor had been stolen by the people behind the Subspace bombs, and so he had decided to partner with her temporarily. They had exchanged their discoveries and pinned their sources down to this area. Already Samus had long since set off, leaving her smaller ship in the interior protection of his much larger Falcon Flyer. And Falcon had gone his own way as well, in his Blue Falcon, to see where his current stock of information would lead him.

Even now he wondered about the well-being of Samus, but he had not worried long at all - that fellow fighter was an extremely capable warrior, and the smoldering rage to be found at the loss of her suit was not something many enemies could easily contend with. In fact, many heroes traveled in caution to avoid her anger at all costs.

Captain Falcon's thoughts eventually wandered back to the present, and he focused his full attention on the data his probes had unearthed. According to the scanner report, there was apparently an extremely large obstacle close ahead, an obstacle that had been labeled as a hostile enemy. Even now he was approaching nearer to it with every second, and the obstacle showed no sign of moving out of the way any time soon.

A pity. For the obstacle, anyway.

With a grin Falcon deactivated the air seal of his racer's cockpit. He'd been itching for some action all day, and this would certainly be a refreshing start.

* * *

Olimar could only look on as a huge hovering blue car suddenly flashed into view, racing at an abominable speed along the ruined road, its tinted cockpit flashing white in a ray of sunlight. He barely had a chance to leap out of the way when suddenly that same cockpit flipped open, the car braked to an abrupt halt, and a huge man came flying out, into the open air, his fist flaring as he drew it back…

…and landed a huge punch, directly in between the Giant ROB's eyes.

The ROB itself, or rather, the shadow bugs possessing an inanimate shell, only had time to realize that its vision had been replaced by static and that there was a burning pressure on its forehead. Soon it found itself falling over backwards, hitting the ground with a huge thump. Everything went dark as its body, unable to withstand the strain of the grounding of so much weight, reverted into the shrunken, plastic form of a single trophy…that then melted away in a surge of sulking violet.

Falcon himself, in order to complete his magnificent arc, found himself plummeting towards the ground at an alarming rate, and modified his form into a dynamic pose, which he held even as he skidded to a halt on the worn road…running right through several Pikmin in the process. There was an awkward silence as Falcon temporarily maintained the ridiculous position, blinking at the cloud of multicolored spirits that drifted up around him and wondering where they had come from.

Olimar could only stare with his last Pikmin, the red one, beside him, feeling rather hopeless as he watched his own prediction come true. Yes, nearly all of his Pikmin had now been demolished - but not in the way he had imagined. It was enough to make him wonder which method of his companions' deaths he would have preferred.

* * *

It took many apologies and hasty amending for Falcon to convince the little man that no, he was not an enemy; no, he had no part in the Subspace Emissary; and no, he had not known that the Pikmin had been there. Even afterwards Olimar had paid him with a haughty audience, and somehow Falcon knew it'd be some time before the second Captain would entirely forgive him.

As was his way, Falcon himself simply shrugged it off. Instead he checked his database, situated in his helmet as well as his racer, and concluded that an entranceway into the workings of the Subspace Emissary was very nearby, near enough to eliminate the need for the Blue Falcon. After sending the racer away on autopilot to return to the Falcon Flyer, he decided to start off on foot in pursuit of his goal, not really caring whether the little man followed or not.

And Olimar, watching the taller man's departing back, grudgingly gave in to his logical sense of thinking and followed him. He knew firsthand that powerful enemies now roamed on the loose, enemies that he would not be able to defeat alone. He would need a companion, a strong one. Though the memory of a certain blue hedgehog flickered briefly, Olimar dismissed it wearily - it was too late to try and find the speedy hero now. He could only hope that Sonic had come to no harm.

So it was that two Captains of completely polar personalities started off on a short trek to a particular cliff overhanging Falcon's 'entrance' to the base of the enemy.

* * *

Diddy Kong practically mashed his face against the side of the Arwing cockpit, staring out at the world below with popping eyes. The sensation of flying so high and so fast still made his fur stand up, but this nervousness was almost entirely overridden by Diddy's resolve to save his uncle. At all times his staring eyes remained riveted to the tiny hovering platform below them, casting its shadow on the glistening ocean below. That platform was holding Donkey Kong captive. It had to be stopped. Such was Diddy's determination that he would emit a hoot of annoyance if the platform so much as flickered out of his line of vision for the briefest of moments.

Falco Lombardi had no real choice but to take it all in stride. Seeing as the cockpit was only really fit for one passenger, having a second one crammed into the limited space was bad enough…and the second passenger being a hyperactive monkey that screeched and hooted every few seconds did not make things much better. In an effort to ignore it he instead concentrated on the current target in question - the cruiser below. Not that landing this annoying monkey would be a large effort, of course. He could butter some toast with the tip of his ship's wing with as much ease. Thankfully, they were now almost within range.

After several more seconds, Falco, feeling almost eager, tipped the Arwing into a somersault and activated the cockpit…

* * *

Captain Olimar gazed morosely over the cliff they had come to, contenting himself with gazing idly at the glittering blue ocean thousands of miles below while Captain Falcon went on fiddling with that decorative helmet of his. Such a frivolous piece of headgear, in Olimar's opinion. His own fishbowl helmet was much more practical, and had a wider range of vision suited for looking up as well as forward - which was very useful when you were up against a giant Bulborb or two. Though Falcon had probably never seen a Bulborb before anyway…shame…

One could say that Olimar had not taken an immediate liking to Falcon.

The other Captain himself did not notice this, and was instead puzzling over the entrance that was supposed to be found here. The coordinates had led right here, to this very cliff - they were practically on top of the doorway. Yet there wasn't anything to be seen. Either these Subspace goons were very good at concealing things, the entrance didn't exist at all…or maybe…

The single red Pikmin left to Olimar tilted its head suddenly, its small green leaf fluttering in the keening, briny wind that wafted up from the sea below. With a tiny squeak it turned forward, staring at something ahead. Olimar, noticing this immediately, followed the little plant's gaze…and found himself gazing at a cutting-edge space fighter, racing at top speeds through the airways, in pursuit of a large violet platform below. A platform bearing the chained trophy of an enormous ape.

Flacon had just noticed this as well, and as he watched the platform's flight trajectory another grin passed across his features. The pieces were finally fitting. There was probably indeed an entrance here…an entrance that they _were_ in fact on top of. Though apparently there was only one way to get there…

* * *

Diddy couldn't help but squawk a bit as the somersault the Arwing was performing reached its peak, a sense tipsiness attacking as all the blood rushed to his head. Yet at the same time a thrilling exhilaration exploded within him, filling him with a new blast of uncontainable energy - energy further piqued by a hiss as the cockpit finally split open, filling their surroundings with the sound of rushing wind and flapping clothes. It was with a wild screech that Diddy then promptly let himself tilt into freefall, barrels at ready on his back, a peanut gun in each hand. The monkey felt a wild delight in the sensation of falling, the chill wind chopping all around him, and the prospect of finally freeing his uncle. With another hoot he activated the barrels and swung around in midair as the 'jetpacks' flared to life, halting his fall abruptly. Then he cocked his peanut guns, turning to the platform just below him with vengeful eyes. Even as the monkey lunged forward, the edges of the cruiser were enveloped in a purple haze, and violet clots of shadow bugs materialized from the vents, solidifying into about a dozen armed Primid in the process. But that wasn't about to stop Diddy.

The Primid could only stare at each other in surprise as their comrades began to disappear in white puffs of smoke, thrown off of the platform by repeated barrages of goober.

Once the cruiser was cleared of the vile beings, Diddy swooped forward, hearing his barrels sputtering at his back. With some difficulty the monkey used what maneuver ability left to him to land with an awkward sort of half-crash, causing the cruiser itself to dip slightly in the air. Diddy made sure to hastily remove the scorched remains of his pair of flying apparatus - a good jet barrel could only last so long, besides. Instead he turned to his uncle's trophy - and jumped in alarm as two more thumps rocked the cruiser.

The hovering platform had been approaching nearer and nearer during the peanut barrage that now scorched its surface, and soon it had come near enough to the island itself to allow two particular heroes to jump from a cliff and land on it, the smaller of them extremely unwilling, the larger enjoying the change of pace immensely. Diddy turned to them first with peanut guns raised, but relaxed when the tall man in the blue suit and the small one with a fishbowl helmet made no attempt to attack him.

Instead the three stiffened as the platform began to glow again, spawning even more of the Primid, among other enemies.

* * *

Falco completed the somersault with little difficulty and sealed the cockpit shut again, watching Diddy as the monkey sprung into action. How those wooden barrels were able to keep the primate in the air was utterly beyond the Arwing pilot, but he rather enjoyed watching the Primid that had appeared on the cruiser jump with panic as they were blasted by peanuts. The monkey had style, admittedly.

As Diddy landed on the platform with little grace and lots of black smoke, Falco found his gaze caught by another falling pair of beings - he couldn't quite tell who they were from this angle, but he could see them well enough as they landed on the platform behind the monkey. More Primid began to materialize as they confronted each other, but Falco was satisfied when Diddy treated the two newcomers as fellow fighters instead of enemies. He knew he'd have little to worry about - and this was confirmed when the last of the Primid were destroyed. Falco grinned as Diddy dashed to that other, larger ape, tapping the glinting trophy base and jumping with joy as Donkey Kong split the chains holding him with little difficulty. The two primates began to perform a victory dance that Falco would have liked to observe - but his attention was suddenly distracted by a keening alarm that filled his headgear.

With a start, Falco automatically turned back to the console before him - and his stomach dropped considerably when the alarm was interpreted as a distress signal from the Great Fox. The mother ship was obviously in trouble.

This could have been made no clearer when Falco looked up and caught a streak of red in the distant horizon leading back to mainland. He watched as the red intensified, revealing the trademark masked hull of a particular ship briefly. But that one glimpse was enough.

Jolting the Arwing into full throttle, Falco turned it in another somersault, this one tilting the ship back towards land. Falco spared a moment to give Diddy a thumbs-up as he noticed the monkey glancing up curiously - and then he was off, Arwing streaking through the air at full speed.

* * *

A/N: Meh, yeah, short chapter, not much happening, but the next one will make up for it. That I promise.

In addition, the first few beginning paragraphs of this update are just a sort of realization that came over me after finding the translation of Ai no Uta - y'know, that sad but peaceful song sung in Japanese on the Pikmin stage in Brawl? The words actually being said are surprisingly morbid, as I found out. Really opens a person's eyes to the nature of the Pikmin world. O.o

Um…yeah, sidetrack aside, the next update should be coming in pretty soon, now that I'm freed of school's cumbersome shackles. :D Reviews are heartily appreciated, as always.


	18. Chapter 17

A/N: Hm, strange. Somehow this chappie was simply long in the coming. Sorry guys. Hopefully I'll be able to update a lot faster than this…but then, I've no guarantees. I never have any guarantees. DX

Disclaimer: …

…

…

…

…Not mine. 'Nuff said.

* * *

The mountain was all they knew.

Its large, solid form had towered over their heads for as long as they could remember. They knew its every crag and contour, its every pebble and boulder, knowledge garnered from endless, never-tiring climbs. Then again, what else could they do? The urge to keep moving, to go higher and higher…it was a need set in their very bones, a call that they could not willingly resist. Countless times they had reached the summit after half a day or so, with the wonderfully cool ice crunching beneath their boots, the refreshing slap of the wind touching their faces. They would sit there awhile, on top of the world, wondering about those strange realms beyond, those strange realms and their strange customs, before they would start right back down again, down to the foot, the base, where they would linger for a while.

…And then they would climb back up. Again.

They did not need to fight. Who was there to fight with? There was no one on this mountain to contend, no other person but themselves, each other. And why would they fight? Siblings did not fight again and again. Why fight when you could help one another instead, as a whole, to successfully reach the top of the peaks? No reason at all, really. Not to say that they _couldn't_ fight, of course. That they could, quite well if need be.

And that need seemed to increase with each passing hour.

At first the trouble had come at the end of their most recent climb, back to the peak again, back to the top of the world. Instead of the usual serenity, they had found themselves gazing upon a land pocked with globes of darkness, darkness that expanded with every passing moment. Those globes, they reeked of wrongness and needless sacrifice, a feeling that they were not meant to be there. But the greatest of all those tidings was fear. Fear of being devoured. They had felt it in the mountain's bones, in the way the birds had flown and not returned, the way the snow had fallen and had refused to peel from the earth, clinging hopelessly.

At first they, too, had been afraid. Why should they not? The mountain was afraid, the _mountain_. The tall, strong mountain, with its absolute grasp on its place in the land, their sanctuary, now pulsing with a hollow, ringing peal of desperation. And they could see the reason for its terror. The globes, as they spread, devoured the land itself, and seemed to leave nothing but darkness behind. A darkness that not even the mountain could have possibly withstood.

But then _they_ had come. Creatures, creatures that did not belong, creatures with no minds, no thoughts. They came in swarms and tides, defiling the mountain's proud contours of stone. _Their_ mountain. _Their_ home.

They had fought then. They had fought together with a vigor that they had not known they'd possessed. A strange delight had rushed through them with the swing of a mallet, the fling of a block of ice. A delight that they had never felt before, a delight that almost surpassed the accomplished feeling of topping the mountain.

Until now they had kept the creatures at bay. The creatures had gone away, had left them alone. Yet still, the fear hung in the air like an inescapable web of malice, a web that seemed to draw together, tighter and tighter, closing in on the land, the sea, the sky. Before long, upon the mountain's peak, they had watched as a smaller peak had been devoured by yet another globe, a globe that had blossomed from the air, terrifyingly close.

Then, even as they had began to climb back down, sensing a new tide of creatures headed for their mountain, the ships had come. And the concept of the world as they had known it was then overshadowed forever.

* * *

The Great Fox was a formidable ship by most standards. Half a mile in length and equipped with main cannons just above the front exit that were capable of completely incinerating an inferior fighter, one could usually rely on it for last resorts or protection during recovery.

Now, however, it seemed that the Great Fox had finally met its match.

Many eyes from the earth below watched as the Halberd, almost twice as large as its silver-gray opponent, unleashed yet another volley of emerald laser fire, projectiles that was then cancelled out and effectively absorbed by the lime-green shield the Great Fox had been forced to throw up in defense. In a valiant retort a couple of golden beams of energy were flung, though it seemed to do little to the opposite ship. Flouncing superiority, the Halberd loomed from its ocean of scarlet cloud like a warlord emerging from the mist, ready to conquer enemy land and quite willing to destroy to do it.

The air trembled as the exchange continued, the two powerful ships hefting the balance of the air battle one way and then another. It seemed, however, that the Halberd was slowly but surely shifting the fight to its advantage.

Meta Knight felt he could do nothing but watch.

He greatly admired the smaller ship for its courage, but he knew it did not stand much of a chance. He himself had supervised and planned the properties of the Halberd in his previous life, easy and usually peaceful to maneuver, but quite fit for turning the tides of warfare if need be. Although he knew he'd never intended for it to be used in this way. No, not at all.

The concept that his ship was being used for evil was enough to take quite a stab at Meta Knight's pride. Others might have argued against that factor, admittedly - once in his past life, he _had_ tried to use the Halberd against the will of the people in a rather foolhardy attempt to rid Dreamland of its incessant lazy nature, until Kirby had proven to him that the planet was all right as it was. But he had not known that he had been doing wrong then. This, however…_this_…this was evil with no attempt to be subtle. The thought brought an ill feeling to his mind.

He felt responsible, though many could have denied that. Yet still, he felt that the havoc brought forth by the Halberd was somehow part of his doing. He had wondered, so many times…if only he had fought just a little harder…if only he had known sooner…if only he had trusted Dedede faster…

That was the past. The deed had been done. But all the same, the Halberd was _his_ ship. He wanted it back. He wanted to take its wheel in his hand and turn it away from its mindless destruction. He wanted to cut the infidels who had stolen it into tiny little shreds for their insolence.

…And why shouldn't he?

Yes, why shouldn't he indeed? The Halberd was practically against the peak of this mountain…if he could reach the top…if that other ship could hold out just a little longer…then maybe, just maybe…

Without a word, Meta Knight leapt forward. His two companions, Marth and Ike, turned to him immediately, having until then been watching the battle above. Meta Knight cast a single apologetic glance back to them - this was his fight, not theirs - and then he was off, leaping from one crag to the next, wings partially outspread to take him higher, to lighten his weight.

Two individuals, both of them mere children, paused in their descent and watched as the strange, silver-masked being jumped past, obviously intent on the battle above. They glanced at each other, brother and sister, one in a pink parka, the other clad in a similar blue coat. They nodded.

The small, round being did not act like the other creatures. It obviously intended to somehow stop the terrible fight above. And if that were so, the Ice Climbers wanted to help him accomplish as much. For the sake of the mountain, if not anything else. Who knew what that great dark ship would do to it otherwise?

* * *

Fighting.

What irony. He _had_ come here, to this icy peak, for a reason. To get away from it. To get away from all that pointless, nonsensical battle.

He had liked it once. Who wouldn't have? It had felt so delightful, once upon a time, to blast away your opponent with a cloud of aura. Show them the power of feeling, yes yes! Show them that his emotional capacity was far superior to theirs, of course!

He had assumed that they could feel nothing, those fighters. Emotion was not required for them when it came to fighting. They did not need it. Only he needed it. Emotion was aura, aura was emotion. One could not exist without the other. And so, because of that, he had thought himself superior. He, the only one who could feel! Who could love! Who could grieve!

…How blind he had been. So very blind.

He knew the truth, now. He knew the cruel way of this world, knew it too well. They had been made to fight, to contend with magnificence and grace and power. Fight, to satisfy and delight eyes that watched far away, eyes that did not care what happened beyond the battlefield. He found himself fortunate that he had been left with a full capacity to feel, to have emotion, if only to satisfy his battling technique.

But the others…the other ones…

They did have emotion. Every one of those fighters did, somewhere down deep near the core of their being, the edge of their minds. They knew sadness, and hurt, and fear, and friendship, as vibrantly as he himself…but they did not know it. They did not recognize it. And they found no need for it. Their ability to feel had grown numb. Why feel sentiment in battle if you would only experience pain, perhaps pity? It'd put one at quite a disadvantage, to say the least.

When he had realized this, he had been sickened. Ashamed. Outraged. He had been played like a puppet. They all had. But he assumed that only he had escaped, knowing. That he alone had willingly dropped from the vicious cycle so far, taking refuge at this cold mountain to think and be free, for a while.

Yet still the fighting had pursued him, appeared in the form of numerous creatures, creatures that had not been meant for existence. The creatures were aggressive, attacking the mountain, and he had been forced to fight them, to utilize his combat abilities yet again. Somehow he had managed to beat them into a retreat…but the world was changing. He could feel it. The balance was tipping oddly, the balance of the purpose of all fighters in the world.

Which was why Lucario had been perched atop of his single outcropping of ice, the air rippling his black and navy fur, tossing his tail in the wind. For days now he had stood there, hardly moving at all, concentrating deeply, feeling the echoes of aura in the wind. The land was suffering, and the fighters' minds seemed to be stirring, changing…

Something was happening. And this had been confirmed when he had began to feel the vibrations of a great battle somewhere behind him, in the air, between two great machines. He had not paid heed to them at first - more vital things were at hand - until three sharp pricks of feeling materialized very nearby, rushing nearer, flares of emotion bent purposefully to the commotion behind him. Two felt oddly familiar - he had sensed them often, moving up and down the mountain - but the third was strange, a sharp flame, filled with a stiff pride and a looming anger.

He opened his eyes…

* * *

Meta Knight stopped short as he cleared the edge of the topmost precipice, the Ice Climbers jumping up beside him. The two in parkas had been strangely helpful as Meta Knight had proceeded with his climb, the children taking up a responsibility of leading him to the quickest route, though their reasons for doing so were still a mystery to him. However, this was forgotten as he spotted a new obstacle before him.

They were now at the peak of the mountain, and everything was encased in glimmering white ice, sharply contrasting against the swirling red cloud around them. The Halberd loomed just out of jumping range ahead, but that was not what caught Meta Knight's eye. Instead his attention was now warily riveted on the being that was balanced on a sharp jut of ice dead ahead, a bipedal dog-like creature with deep azure fur and midnight paws and legs. Its arms were folded and its eyes were closed, its entire being wrapped in a shroud of solitary contemplation as it remained perfectly balanced atop the rock.

And then it opened its eyes, eyes that sharply contrasted against the color of its pelt - eyes that pierced through the air in a flash of fiery rubies, filled with a magnitude of feeling that Meta Knight had never seen before - had never thought possible.

There was a pause as the two stared at each other, Star Warrior and Pokemon, each beholding the other, sizing up strengths and weaknesses. There was a distrustful flicker in the opposite's eyes, as Meta Knight observed, while Lucario found that there was obviously much more to this small, masked creature before him than immediately met the eye.

With barely any sign of stiffness Lucario abruptly jumped down from his perch, blinking once. The fleeting darkness of his eyelids revealed all that he needed to know of this individual - the round being in front of him was temporarily shrouded in subtle flares of uneasy burgundy, hinting on aggressive scarlet, but tapering out at the edges in reluctant violet and questioning blue. The opposite was not sure if Lucario was a friend or foe, it seemed.

Lucario did not know himself, either. He found that there was only one way to be sure. Unwillingly taking up a fighting position, he allowed his aura to blossom into being at his palm.

With only the slightest hint of hesitation, Meta Knight angled Galaxia.

In a flash they collided.

The Ice Climbers watched the ensuing battle with wide eyes, pressing close to each other's shoulders as they both simultaneously gulped. Should they help the masked one? No, it seemed that the battle being fought would only permit two combatants. Not that they really wanted to fight, anyway. Neither of them savored the idea of attacking for no real reason. This one wasn't a monster of any sort.

As they watched the exchange of azure flames and a scarlet blade, their eyes were instead drawn to the looming ship above their heads. It was moving forward now, with that slow, purposeful gait, closing in on the other, smaller ship. A strange claw suddenly extended from the larger one, arcing over the Great Fox, as though readying to coil…

A gold flash returned their attention to the battle at hand, and both Ice Climbers jumped as Meta Knight's trophy suddenly struck the ice, colorless and cold as the terrain beneath it.

Lucario looked up as the two that had accompanied the masked one leapt into a defensive position, expressions of shock and slight anger on their faces, but the mallets trembled very slightly in their hands, and he knew they were still reluctant to attack him despite the fall of their companion.

He had never really meant to push so hard in the first place. Meta Knight had been quite a challenging opponent, and Lucario had been forced to unintentionally unleash his own full potential. But now he walked forward, padding lightly over the snow, until he was beside the life-sized trophy.

The curse of all fighters.

He tapped its base.

A warm flash illuminated the cold landscape, and Meta Knight was upright almost before it had faded. Lucario could sense an abashed sort of pride in the way the warrior stiffly flicked back his cape, blade his cautiously raised. The smaller's glowing eyes glared at Lucario for a moment, and Lucario glared right back, unsure as to what else he was supposed to do. He did not want to fight this warrior, not again…he had told himself that he had been done with fighting…and the warrior had readily proved himself…

They both made the decision at the same time, and so the handshake was rather stiff, both thrusting forward their hands awkwardly. It eased after a moment, however, and the two knew they no longer had anything to fear from each other.

Their revelations were interrupted.

With an immense crash of crumbling stone and splintering ice, the peak of the mountain was practically obliterated by the impact of the Great Fox as it was crushed against the mountain, lassoed to the belly of the Halberd by its grappling hook. There was a scream of tortured metal and a roar of tumbling stone as, for a brief moment, the snowy clearing was enveloped in chaos. Meta Knight, spying his chance to enter his ship at last, turned round briefly to beckon to the Ice Climbers - who had disappeared. The ledge where they had been standing had broken off completely, taking the two children with it.

Surprise and dismay were overlaid by determination, and Meta Knight turned back to the task at hand, only able to hope that the two parka-clad helpers would meet a swift end. Instead he ascended once more, jumping on unstable columns of rock, noting with another stab of surprise that Lucario was beside him step for step. Not slowing down lest the rock fall take them both, Meta Knight pressed forward, made a giant leap, spread his wings - and managed to finally alight on the Halberd's bottommost hangar, Lucario landing seconds later beside him.

The platform rocked dangerously, and there was another groan as the hum of engines grew stronger - the Halberd was preparing to rise once more. With a single exchanged glance and a nod, the two heroes quickly entered before the prevailing summit winds snatched them from their hard-won position on the ship.

* * *

Nana and Popo effectively did their best to stay side by side as the ledge they were standing on suddenly gave way, plummeting several tons of rock - and themselves - into free fall. Prepared for such scenarios, however, the two took up positions in the air, and it was with a sizable thump that they landed on another ledge far, far below the peak, almost at the foot of the mountain once more, four particular heroes making haste to step out of the shower of stone that followed them.

The swordsmen, Pokemon trainer, and psychic did not have much chance to marvel at the two children that had fallen from the sky, however, for there was a surging, sucking sound from the area below them. Turning back to the landscape ahead, they were greeted with the sight of a huge ocean of shadow bugs, particles of darkness that were slowly creeping up the side of the mountain to meet them.

In moments the enemy had made contact, and Primid materialized from the first wave of shadow bugs, grasping the edge of the ledge and clambering upright to intercept the six. Immediately all of them sprung into action: Ike smote several in a single swipe of Ragnel, Marth delivered a quick punch to one before rounding on two more with Falchion flashing through the air, while Lucas quickly ducked to dodge three consecutive attacks, the Ice Climbers encased a few in ice, and Red slowly began stepping back from an advancing squad of enemies, tossing a pokeball from one hand to the other and readying to throw it.

Despite their effort, however, it was clear that the numbers were overwhelming. More and more Primid, along with other monsters of the same source of creation, rose from their puddles of shadow mugs, intent on destroying them. The six were completely outnumbered…but…

A gloved hand thrust its palm forward. The Master Sword flashed in the sunlight. A green dinosaur eyed the commotion below. A cerulean bow was split in two by skillful hands. A pink puffball bounced excitedly in the air.

It was with these movements that five great heroes suddenly descended from a concealing crag to the right, joining the rallying group below. And just as suddenly, in almost no time at all, the tides of battle abruptly turned in their favor.

* * *

A/N: Hm…I get this weird feeling that this chapter was just as long as the last one…which means that it was just as short…gah. X.x I hope you all don't mind too much. Everything is finally coming together, and there's apparently less to describe. I also apologize if the moral contemplations were a little overdone - I've just finished reading _The Other Wind_ by Ursula K. LeGuin, and I've been thinking about deep stuff concerning life and death and what comes after ever since…

Oh, well. Anyways, as said before, I hope to update soon. Refrences to Star Fox are courtesy of Snake of the Rose, or SOTR for short. Best person to ask concerning that game. Nice guy. :)

Um...yeah...anyway...till next time! :D


	19. Chapter 18

A/N: Well…due to atmospheric disturbances and other every-day events beyond my limited mortal control, I have been rendered unable to submit this chappie for a while. D: Darned faulty internet connections…but if you're reading this, than it's probably patched itself back up to a degree, so I hope the update will make up for its tardiness. Apart from that…not much else to say. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine and never will be. All rights go to Nintendo, SEGA, and…uh…well, I can't name all of them at the moment…but Super Smash Bros most certainly doesn't belong to me!

* * *

The echoing ring of whirring tank treads was the only thing to be heard in the dead silence of the interior of the Great Fox's hangar. Though it seemed large enough to contain quite a few minor aircrafts, there was only one Arwing to be found inside at present. The two ROB Sentries that had been charged to examine the interior looked at each other in confusion before sending signals to their dozen other companions, and there were more metallic echoes as a huge hovering platform was erected, manned by several other ROBs. The Sentries left the party to its devices, only lingering long enough to insure that the single Arwing was transported safely to the Halberd's own hangar for examination. By the time this had been confirmed, the Sentries were then long gone with a smaller party at their disposal, examining the rest of the ship.

There was not much to be found within, admittedly. Empty room after empty room greeted the searching ROBs' optical sensors, well-kept and entirely functional for the most part, but utterly deserted, with a pressing silence that was softened only by the pensive humming of the captured ship's huge engines, which had been only minorly damaged during the skirmish mere hours before. It took at least another hour for the thorough search of the ship's main inner corridors to be completed, with not a single living soul to be found in any of them. Soon only the central cockpit was left for interrogation, and the Sentries took lead as they approached the entrance to that area, built-in blasters at ready. They could guess that there might indeed be something in the cockpit - how else could the ship have operated itself otherwise? The only question that remained was 'what', and for all the ROBs knew the single inhabitant could very well be hostile.

The sight that greeted them inside the cockpit was a little more than surprising.

A huge shattered bay window was the first thing the ROBs were able to register as they entered, the myriad of cracked glass taking up most of their vision. It was clear that the cockpit had met the brunt end of the Halberd's attacks, testament obvious in the scorch-marks adorning several of the vital controls and switches located someways below the ruined window. The row of leather chairs and a central control pedestal had also been heavily damaged, and various hologram screens seemed to have been caught in the middle of retraction, source lights rising weakly from their half-burnt panels, useless streams of garbled statistics data trickling feebly across what remained of their flickering transparent surfaces.

The most surprising thing of all, however, was the trophy lying off to one side of the room, surrounded by shards of glass. There was a dent in the wall behind it, as though the trophy had been flung there by a great force, though the object itself remained utterly undamaged, the small golden base glinting faintly in the red light that streamed in through the warped bay window, which gave way to the red clouds spawned by the Halberd.

The Sentries cautiously rolled forward, approaching the trophy, their subordinates trailing in behind them, some wary, others merely confused and surprised. After glancing at each other and nodding in unison, the ROB Sentries lowered their blasters and beckoned to a couple of regular ROBs behind them. The Sentries watched as the two ROBs grasped the trophy with their robotic claws and set it upright on the floor, since the Sentries themselves were unable to perform such an action themselves, which blasters as hands. All of the ROBs then proceeded to stare at the profile of the trophy, which now sat inanimate before them.

It depicted an robot of sorts, obvious in its skeletal metallic structure. It was humanoid in shape, with two arms and legs operated by various gears and circuits, all of which had been painted over in tones of gold and silver. With a single orange visor representing its optical sensors, it stood before the ROBs unmoving, plastic, devoid of life.

An android.

Like them.

One of the ROB Sentries slowly rolled forward, coming to a halt a few inches away from the trophy's base. Then it bent down, and there was a flash as it tapped one of its blasters against the plated gold.

The android jumped into life as soon as the light had faded, obviously confused. Very nearly toppling over but managing to balance himself to some degree, ROB 64 eyed the shorter robots before him curiously, orange visor flashing questioningly. The other ROBs stared back, and there was a tense moment as the two types of robot examined each other.

* * *

The two ROB Sentries led the way back to the hangar of the Halberd empty-handed. There were questioning creaks all around as robotic heads turned to stare at them, wondering. One of the Sentries shook its head, while the other glanced back at the party trailing in behind them. All of the other ROBs were subdued and dismissive as well, save for the occasional confidential flicker of a secretly exchanged glance, a stiff shrug of metallic shoulders.

The commander of the Halberd had decreed that the Great Fox be set on a crash course after inspection, so that it could destroy itself upon contact with the land below and never be used again by the enemy. Because of this, the ROBs had been ordered to do away with anything left inside that may have attempted to man the ship - including any sentient being that might be found.

This once, though…this once would be an exception.

Too many robot lives had been lost already. Too many, so many that the scars now ran deep among the ROBs' ranks, scars of regret and confusion that they hardly felt anymore, because they had been so constant, so repetitive. Surely they at least had the ability to spare one life, while so many others were lost and resultingly overlooked?

The ROB Sentries were aware that this logic was probably flawed. They were aware that they would probably be found out, and punished, perhaps even shut down for good. But they didn't care anymore. So long as that fellow android managed to escape…well…that was enough. Their lives held no purpose anymore, anyway. The Great Ancient Minister was being led by something higher now, something greater, something that decreed that they all be destroyed. The Great Ancient Minister had become another subordinate. And if the Great Ancient Minister had met his downfall, it was only a matter of time before all others before him met theirs, too.

Nothing they did would matter anymore. Rest besides, ROB 64 did not deserve the fate that had been sealed for themselves anyway. The android's purpose was quite derived from theirs…it had no connection with them, save its name. It only made sense that it should go free, to pilot that great ship once again.

And so the ROB Sentries resisted the urge to glance back as the notification alarm blared throughout the hangar. They did not so much as make a twitch out of place as the air beyond them sang, the grappling claw of the Halberd loosing its hold on the Great Fox, which lurched forward with a groan of bruised metal and sputtering engines. The Sentries did not attempt to even think about the previous events that had occurred as the Great Fox supposedly began its descent into destruction, trailing thick smoke in its wake, piloted gently by an android in a ruined cockpit.

No, they did not try to remember at all.

It didn't manner anymore.

* * *

The corridors were silent as a ROB made its way on its patrol rounds, head tilting from side to side as it made a perfunctory evaluation of its surroundings. Apparently satisfied that all was well, it made to turn a corner…

…and was struck in the face by a violet missile that turned the corner first, trailing thick black smoke behind it.

The resulting explosion sent the ROB toppling backwards, and before it could react or even get off the floor it was showered by several grenades that followed the path of the previous missile. The explosives clattered to the ground lightly, taking a few seconds before uniformly exploding in bright flashes of flame and shrapnel. The ROB didn't stand a chance.

Solid Snake peered around that very same corner as a golden flash permeated the air, leaving the trophy of a short robot in its wake. He did his own perfunctory scan of the area and then, deeming the place far clearer than the ROB had left it, he quickly took off down this new corridor, leaving the trophy behind him and doing his best to cling to the shadows. His fleeting form was only occasionally illuminated by the red light that poured in through the frequent portholes on one side of the hall, but other than that he could have been another piece of insignificant darkness skimming the metallic floor for all the presence he made. Which suited Snake just fine.

At another turning he paused again, hand falling to his utility belt and grasping another grenade as he peered forward, behind, above. Then he continued on, his pace never slowing, swift and silent.

It was about time he had gotten on with this, come to think of it. But then, the wait had been worth it. He had managed to perform a complete reconnaissance of this entire airship with the help and cover of his never-failing cardboard box, and Snake was well pleased with the results. The whole of the ship was now mapped out in the back of his mind, and so there was no immediate concern of getting lost or triggering a potential alarm. No, the only hindrance to his goals now came in the form of the Primid or ROBs or…whatever other creatures that he might happen to stumble into. And that was good enough, as far as Snake was concerned. Compared to other situations he had experienced in his past lives, he could say this one was perfect, almost lenient. Easy enough to allow his mind some time to wander, though Snake made sure not to let it float far.

There had been a large stir in the activities of the ship in the last few hours. Snake had witnessed it all, the various troops and squads of ROBs and creatures that had just recently stormed the halls, some laden with entire caskets of Shadow Bugs, others armed to the teeth with weapons, as though preparing for battle. Then there had been that great disturbance, when Snake had been able to hear a scream of lasers and feel the deep vibrating quiver of some distant shield being assaulted. This had been followed by a great commotion of bangs and creaking, with heavy lurches on the Halberd's part, topped off with a bone-jolting crash as the whole ship had then slammed itself against what felt like a mountain peak.

Snake had been rather disgruntled about that one particular part. When the ship had struck that peak or whatever, he had nearly lost his cover to the resulting swaying of the ship, which had very nearly upended his cardboard box. The minor inconvenience aside, a whole surge of ROBs had then made a beeline in the direction of what Snake assumed to be the Halberd's main hangar. And that was when he had taken action.

He was going to find out exactly what was going on if it was the last thing he could do.

The halls grew darker as the pressing portholes finally began to vanish, replaced instead by rack upon rack of fluorescent lights, which sparsely lit the halls as they grew increasingly darker. Snake had entered the bottom part of the belly of the ship. Confident on his trail, Snake increased his pace a little, turning into a particularly large corridor and ending up almost face-to-face with a whole squad of ROBs, led by two dark-colored ROB Sentries armed with blasters instead of hands.

Snake reared back, as did the ROBs, but the separation in contact was soon terminated as the two Sentries lunged forward, a flurry of missiles blooming from their blasters. Snake tucked his duck into a roll and popped up again like a jack-in-the-box, fists flinging, bringing down several ROBs before they knew what had hit them. A couple of grenades were flung at another three, which were thrown out of commission in flurries of explosions, and then it was just Snake and the Sentries.

One of them was grounded with a well-aimed kick on Snake's part, and he quickly finished that one off with a short-ranged missile pointed to the floor. He then rounded on the second one with the same gun, ready to shoot.

The Sentry paused…and lowered its arms, right as Snake pulled the trigger.

He could only stare against the blinding flash of gold as the second ROB, too, was then reduced to a trophy.

Snake paused in the middle of the hallway for a moment, staring around at the clutter of trophies around him. If he had been any less experienced in battle, he would have felt slightly nauseous at being in such close proximity with so many enigmas of death, but that was not so. He only had thoughts for that ROB, the one that had simply given up the battle almost before it had started. Sure, it was obvious that it was going to lose, but that simple abandon, that shameless lack of resolve…

…How was that possible…?

Snake frowned, then shook his head, clearing the thoughts away. No time for that now. He started on his way again swiftly, making sure to avoid stepping on the trophies behind him as he left.

* * *

The mere bottom half of this ship felt like a maze, as far as Lucario was concerned. It was all a clutter of pale lights and close-fitting halls, droves of Primid and squads of ROBs, coupled with deep shadows beyond the wan lights that might leap out at you at any given moment. All in all, it made for a rather unpleasant environment, and the Pokemon found himself more on edge than he had ever been on any of his previous travels of this world. Suddenly everything was dangerous and threatening. And though he hated to admit it to himself, Lucario knew that, if not for Meta Knight, he probably would have abandoned attempting to break into this place anyway.

Not that he had ever intended to invade the Halberd to start with.

Strange, the things fate did to you…

Lucario wrenched his focus back on the task at hand, ushering a little more aura into his legs as Meta Knight procured another speed burst a few feet ahead. The Star Warrior's bat-like wings sheared the air powerfully, reducing Meta Knight's round body to a half-silver blur of glowing yellow eyes, partnered with an outstretched orange glint of his red blade. All haste was needed, apparently, though Meta Knight seemed to know exactly where he was going. Almost as if he'd owned this ship once.

The lighting in the current hall they were speeding down began to increase, diverting Lucario's attention back to his surroundings despite his previous resolution to focus only on haste. He subconsciously noted the widening of the general area and the upward tilt of the floor beneath his feet - they were going up, perhaps into the ship's midriff. About time - Lucario had suddenly found that he didn't much like close quarters. He blinked, and at that exact same moment a blurred flare of furtive green flashed past him.

…Wait a minute.

Lucario abruptly skidded to a halt, turning back the way they'd come, interested and alarmed on equal terms. He ignored Meta Knight's question glance at his back as he padded a few feet down the corridor, looking around. It took him a few moments, but soon he was able to locate exactly what it had been that had almost eluded his notice before.

A cardboard box.

The Pokemon peered at the offending object incredulously, unsurprisingly wondering what in the world the thing was doing here. Despite the fact that there was a 'Smash Bros' insignia emblazoned on all four of its brown sides in blazing red letters, the box was still somehow hard to pay attention to. When you looked at it, your eyes felt the urge to simply slide over it, look over it, and move on, because it was a box and nothing more. There was simply an air of disinterest that permeated the area around it.

Indeed, Lucario would have almost turned right around and informed Meta Knight that it was nothing unusual so that they could continue on with more pressing matters, but he really couldn't do that, the box's disadvantage in concealment being that it was simply alien in its surroundings. More out of curiosity than anything else, Lucario closed his eyes again, allowing his other senses to override his mere eyesight. Again, a flare of bright green, edged with uneasy aquamarine, greeted him, shaped in the profile of a man huddled beneath the lifeless cardboard.

In the end, Lucario did the only sensible thing he could think of, and grabbed hold of the box, lifting it up and away.

Solid Snake was not happy.

* * *

Half an hour later found a band of three approaching a pair of huge doors, leading to a room situated somewhere in the hull of the Halberd. It was a strange rescue party to behold: a small, round creature with glowing eyes and a silver mask, a humanoid dog-like Pokemon with navy fur and a piercing red gaze, and a grim unshaven man in a grey tightsuit and an equally tattered headband, armed from head to toe with a variety of weapons and explosives.

The place was dead silent as the three cautiously approached the door. Their defensive postures only stiffened as the double entrance swung silently open to admit them upon their approach, almost as though daring them to come further.

The chamber beyond stretched out before the three heroes, dark and cavernous and almost impossibly huge. A pair of metal pillars were the only things that stood out in the dense shadows beyond - that, and the two identical cages hanging from the ceiling by thick chains, cages that creaked softly as they swung gently to the flying motions of the Halberd. Within each cage was a trophy depicting a woman, one clad in pink with yellow hair and a serene posture, the other wrapped in slim violet cloth and in the midst of a spell-based attack. Despite the royal embroidery of their gowns, however, the trophies remained forever lacking of color, of life.

Princess Zelda and Princess Peach seemed quite the worse for wear.

The silence was interrupted as a slithering sound filled the air, causing the three at the door to look up. The Shadow Particles that began to ooze down the previously mentioned chains seemed to almost glow eerily in the sparse lighting, lumpy and clumped and surrounded in an aura of malice that Lucario didn't need to sense to realize. The substance slid through the bars of both cages with ease, enveloping the prisoner of each in a veil of violet. Soon enough their journey continued, to the cage floor, seeping out from that and dripping in a thick stream to the floor far below. Before the heroes' very eyes, the particles then stiffened and raised into pillars, which where sculpted by invisible hands, forming exact replicas of the two princesses.

The replicated Peach suddenly raised her head imperiously, folding her hands neatly at her waist, eyes glowing eerily as she tilted her gaze in her companion's direction. The Zelda copy stirred into life as well, delicately clenching a gloved fist as though testing her strength and then regally nodding in agreement.

The two turned to Snake, Lucario, and Meta Knight.

Snake was the first to respond, gone with the cloud of a fired missile.

The other two leapt into action as well, even as Zelda retaliated the preemptive strike with a glittering flash of a blue shield, which depicted Nayru's Love for all to see. The rejected missile rounded on Meta Knight, who took to the air in a surge of violet wings, and Lucario covered for his absence with an Aura Sphere in Peach's direction. The Pokemon ducked as Peach's Toad sent spores flying in his direction for the attempt, but he managed to land an aura-saturated punch on the Princess's back upon dodging behind her. The fake Zelda reared around to deal a punch back, but was apprehended by Snake and Meta Knight, who came at her simultaneously, leaving Lucario to deal with the Peach copy by himself.

Exchanging blow for blow and narrowly avoiding being clobbered by a tennis racket, Lucario found himself admitting that had never realized just how dangerous human women in dresses could become. Though, then again, he shouldn't have been so surprised.

They had been created to fight, besides.

* * *

A/N: Meh…I dunno, me brain's been fuzzy throughout the writing of this entire chappy, so I must apologize in advance if this turned out subpar in any way. -.-'' In addition, the first few sections were purely product of my undoubtedly flawed imagination, so if it really didn't make sense I don't blame you.

Due to the crappiness of my current internet server, I have absolutely no idea when the next update might pop up, so we can all only cross our fingers and hope it'll be soon. And…uh…well, that's all I can really think of saying at the moment.

Cheers. :)


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